Sunday, February 14, 2016
Can't Imagine A Prettier Day To Be Anxious
Valentine's Day and that was sitting by my plate this morning when I served our breakfast on the porch. It's another perfectly gorgeous day and bright and blue and light-shot and my lover is cleaning up the kitchen and all is well, is well, is well, and I am so filled with anxiety that I'm vibrating.
So, I tell myself as I tell others, anxiety is a lying bitch, and then, to myself and myself only I say, get on with it, just please do.
I will. I know I will. But fuck.
Rusty's still in the tree and Lily got in touch with the Chaires Fire Department and they said, "Nah, he'll come down," and Jessie sent me a video of August bouncing in a bouncy thing, grinning and bouncing, my heart filling with the sweetness, despite, and I am going to make chocolate truffles for my Valentine and he's going to till the garden for the potatoes and I haven't done laundry in two days so there is that and my stomach hurts and my mouth is dry and I am not thinking properly, which perhaps goes without saying when anxiety is involved.
Orange cat walks through the border grass jungle, chickens flock from one part of the yard to another, springsap rises and swells limb buds, I am here, I am not here, I am there, I do not know where that is, exactly, and Happy Valentine's Day and it'll all be okay.
I would love to tenderly hold your hand.