I don’t like to bury my feelings. I live with my heart on my sleeve and with every emotion at hand. This is me. It’s who I am, take it or leave it.
When I’m in love, the world is bright and beautiful and all that I see is perfect. When I hurt, I feel the range of emotions associated with an injury from rage to regret and despair.
When times are bad I cope with it by distracting myself. Finding something to do, something to sink into so that I can put everything I’m feeling into it.
A place to send my mind so that I stop myself from traveling down the path of unanswered questions. A project to busy my hands and thoughts. To keep me from thinking the what ifs and to keep me from feeling any regrets.
I find myself falling into the words on a page and living in the reality between the covers of the books on my shelf. Music fills the air in my home and private concerts are imagined in my living room.
Sweat pours from me, expelling the pain and anger as I push my muscles to exhaustion. I run until my legs wobble and I am no longer able to tell the difference between the salty drops of sweat and the trails of tears racing down my face.
And just when I’ve distracted myself enough to think that everything is good and I’m happy again, a song will play and the voice of my child will ring out, reminding me that this was a friend’s song and that he remembered hearing it for the first time as we watched a movie together, all three of us.
As he remembers happily this memory, my heart surges with the feelings that surface along with what I worked so hard to force to the back of my mind. To distract myself from. And as the vocals swirl around my head and I hear his little voice sing the chorus in all his beautiful pureness, I close my eyes and send up a moment of thanks for the beauty that we had.
I can’t be angry forever at the things I can’t control. At the twists and turns my life has taken. At the future that has not even happened yet.
All that is asked of me is to do my best today.
And so I will.