Eyes open.
For a split-second, you are fully present, conscious, and free of your ruminating patterns.
Then the world rushes in, as it does every morning, your nerves signaling pain to your brain.
Once again, the fatigue of your soul becomes known by your body.
Another day. Begin. Struggle. Strive. But try to enjoy it.
It’s a lonely road for those of us perceptive enough to realize how alone we really are.
We are born islands, but not all of us have warm, sandy beaches.
Some have only their rocky shores and cold, swirling saline waters to offer.
It’s hard enough to find a flavor that tempts you – harder yet to find one that deserves to taste you back.
Enough with the metaphorical bullshit.
Eyes close.
Now’s the time to contemplate your day and set your intentions.
Breakfast, coffee, some stretches to start your morning off on the right foot.
Wouldn’t that be nice?
But no… there’s something wrong.
Roll over.
You’re still preoccupied with the sweet, dull ache of loss.
God, peace is hard work for the active mind in mourning.
No, it’s not over, because today you still love him, and hate everyone else.
Go back to sleep.
