My eyes are a little bit burning as if I've just cried.
I squint more often lately to help me see, and I am squinting now at the computer screen.
I imagine myself at 80.
I'll probably have really great slippers.
I'll probably fear very different things.
My purge is still on my mind.
I feel bad for leaving Beckam in the swing to go and do it.
I can still see his wide open smile. I can still feel the tether between his eyes and mine.
His laugh was hearty and whole. Not the unsure baby laugh which came out a few months ago.
Now it is certainly a laugh. It is thick with joy. And I left him there. I couldn't stay. I had to go. I am still pushed and ruled by Lydia sometimes. I couldn't sit with the food. I wanted it out more than anything. Only I didn't get the empty feeling of relief. I felt defeat. I just wanted the day to be over so I could sleep and hopefully find myself in the morning.
Now it is that morning.
I don't want to wash it off.
I was slow to move and still a bit afraid.
I looked at my phone.
There was a text from Aunt Lucy that said, "I read your blog. Trust your process. I love you."
My Mom's text said, "I just read your blog-I am so sorry sweetie. I love you so much."
Angels.
I woke up to angels.
They put tears in my eyes and helped me feel.
Now I am awake.
My eyes are whole circles and they see reasons for delight.
I am going to the park.
I ate breakfast.
And I don't need the armor of my run-stink.
I'm going to wash it off and join humanity.
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