My Gosh, Stop Apologizing and Just Give It Time: An Unexpected Note to Self
By way of pen to paper and rain, soaking through my wool sweater.
I stretch my arms up and wide, thinking of the yoga mat a few feet away — is that what I need? I'm turning my attention to anything that requires attention, eyes wanting to write this and that, doing my best to catch the thoughts before they pour from every corner of these past few months.
I feel the need to apologize, all the time. Why is that? Guilt, there’s an outcry. Grief, it’s just out of reach, teetering on the edge of future breakdowns; writing, it's tucked away, far away, in a notebook that hold thoughts. Thoughts that you tell yourself, are still too close to be memories.
Breaking, I'm waiting for the fall.
Craving, I'm lunging for distraction.
Adventure, I'm painting it in a dim and frivolous light.
You should talk about it. Why aren't you talking about it? My gosh, Chloe, you've let things build up, this is never going to work out now.
You've distanced. You've started but not finished. You're saying but not doing, not yet anyway. You know, I do believe you, I really do, but my gosh it's exhausting to carry the weight of someone unable to hold herself up. You knew what was coming, and it came, now you can't seem to step away. You're clinging when there is no need for it, might I suggest a kinder more forgiving grip?
Why not let them be memories, beautiful memories. Why not let the perpetual sting of loss be just that, a sting, instead of trying to drown it out with cold water and longer to do lists. Guilt, let it cry. Let it teeter on the brink of breakdowns and let it be what it needs to be.
Tuck that writing away and share what you only feel inclined to share.
Travel and be excited about it.
Learn and be reminded why you want to do so.
Try new things. Try old things.
There is nothing, including yourself, you need to put into question, no one or thing you need to blame, and no timelne that's waiting for you to hop back on. Take today, for instance, rain is spattering against the window and you've got a half spilled coffee sitting on the curve on the couch (a terrible idea), but you stand firmly in its location anyway. You have family outside this little nest you've made and success at the tip of everything you do, though I know you're still looking around corner after corner for confirmation to move forward.
Enjoy these upcoming opportunties without guilt, write without pressure, and create without expectation. Yes, you stil have to work — to make things work, but do try and leave room for a few other things too.
My gosh Chloe, stop apologizing and just give it time.