confession: it is the ex-whose-betrayal-obliterated-my-heart’s 35th birthday today. i almost texted him after midnight but didn’t. i emailed him on monday. most likely he deleted the email without reading it. i’m at peace with that likelihood because i wrote it as much for me (more?) than for him. i can’t help but remember birthdays, it is a mental tic of mine. i don’t miss him. i don’t even like him, but i’ll always love him.
confession: since friday night in particular, i’ve taken many deep breaths and pauses to appreciate beauty, savor what is, and relish new possibilities. i use every deep breath as an opportunity to open my heart wider. it works. try it.
confession: i ate several bites of chicken fried chicken yesterday. wow-whee-woo it is GOOD not being eating disordered on the days i can manage that feat.
confession: the colors of my soul are the blue hues of the caribbean. the weather of my soul is gentle spring rain that prompts the buds on cherry blossom trees. the temperature of my soul is 68 degrees. wear a light waterproof jacket when you visit my wet blue soul.
confession: when i’m drunk, i want to crawl into the nearest lap. i love sitting in people’s laps. when i’m sober, i sometimes want to crawl into the nearest lap. there are a few laps where i’m always welcome. i wish there were more.
confession: i’m waiting for something inside to break. it won’t. i’m stronger.
confession: i have books to write. i ought to get busy.
confession: this week i’ve been “retired” rather than working. i like being retired, but as i’ve already confessed, i have books to write, and i ought to get busy.
confession: i love you. for real.