When I left the house this morning, I felt good. I was driving my car down familiar streets; wearing nice clean clothes; my eye makeup worked out well; the day sunny - but warming, not hot; I was playing a corny song about it being a good life - up nice and loud, just the way I like my music; and just in that moment I felt ok. I didn't have to worry about normal life today; it was my day to do whatever I wanted. The feeling was fleeting, but that's what we expect.
I went to the gym, like a 'normal' person - thoughts wandered of course, they always do when it's me and a treadmill - no matter what music is playing in my ears. It must be something to do with the walking - my mind wants to be getting somewhere, even if it is confined to my head.
Of course, I think about him and those things more than I should, more than I want to. When I heard that his ex, (and my personal painful memory on legs) was coming back I wanted to cry and run and throw up - all at once.
I am now resorting to the world of imagination. If I pretend it doesn't bother me; if I pretend that I don't care and if I pretend that I am ok, about everything, the letter, his retort, my now apparent excommunication - then maybe, just maybe some of the 'ok' will stick. Like osmosis or gravity or something as equally mystical and scientific.
If I am not pretending, then I am wallowing - and that is pointless. And maybe it's starting to work; because sometimes I see there are things beyond it.
Yesterday I thought to myself that I just didn't want to be alive anymore (not because of the stupid boy, but because of everything accumulated) and today I think, maybe I will be ok. Because I recognise that there are a few, but fabulous and inspiring people in the world - and there are also little people in my world - who love me - just 'cause, and they depend on me - even if it's just to make cordial or build play fences for them. That's all I have right now, but I think it's special.
This is the life cycle of a StrangeBird. So many seasons have played out like this. When is it going to change, I wonder. If I imagine that everyday I am on the cusp of great change, surely it will come eventually.
And then, there are songs like these. Get over your hill and see...