The One In Which I Can’t Stay Away

It’s one of those days where the sky can’t help itself, its face wide and blank, leaking rain from its eyes. I didn’t mean to cry, I imagine it says. I don’t want to cry, but it’s a struggle to hold it all in and even the sky falls apart, from time to time. Don’t be mad at me.

Don’t be mad at me.

I wanted a haitus. I wanted to rid writing from my body like a detox. I wanted to prove something, something small and insignificant, to someone who doesn’t notice these things anymore. I wanted to quit because quitting feels good. Quitting feels like slipping into a worn pair of jeans that fit just right; like an old friend you catch up with now and again but don’t plan to see regularly; like the kind of sex that you know is the last sex but you haven’t said it out loud, yet.

Quitting feels like my default setting. If I had settings, if I were a robot.

But, look, the emails and the comments and the concerned looks. They worked. I’ve been spending my week siphoning all the kindness off my screen, bottling it for hard times. And, so, here i am.

Quitting, the quitting.

Thank you. I love you guys.

Seabear – I’ll Build You A Fire

Advertisements

10 thoughts on “The One In Which I Can’t Stay Away”

  1. I love these metaphors.

    They hit close to home in a strange way.

    “…like an old friend you catch up with now and again but don’t plan to see regularly;”

    Sometimes, my life is mostly populated by this kind of friend, by that kind of sex. Maybe this is why your writing re-wires me. Makes me realize myself so much more clearly, yet also makes me see new horizons. We have similar default settings.

    Welcome home.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s