Still feeling like I’ve been hit by a ton of bricks but at least there is this face and happy hour with friends.
Like a swift kick to the stomach the wait is over. The verdict has been delivered. The gavel brought down with a devestating blow.
The winds knocked out and all I can do is hyperventalate.
I’ve had a stressful few weeks.
Make it or break it kind of weeks.
Weeks with no conclusion and bellies full of bile corroded me from the inside out.
Sleepless nights full of rotating hysteria, monsters under my bed.
This morning I opened all the windows. Blared Paul Simon though the house and danced my fucking ass off. I danced like no one was watching, or like everyone was and I couldn’t give two fucks less. Arms swimming, feet stomping, tears in my eyes, bumping into furniture, it felt good.
I thought of my dad, a lover of Paul, an overall inspiration. And let myself feel lucky for my family. For our health and everything that has gotten me this far.