Compression

Today I feel an anxious compression pushing against me; filling my gut with some unnamed pressure. I woke up angry.

And anger really means sadness.

So what is the sadness?

I feel this strange opposition, hidden just beyond view. Something’s pushing its way out of me.

Last night I was sitting at the island in the kitchen, while a pipe of cannabis sat half-smoked on the counter. Mark sat opposite me. We were talking about love. was talking about love. And I started to cry. Right as I began to cry, Fleetwood Mac’s Landslide came on Pandora.

I’ve been afraid of changing. Cause I’ve built my life around you. 

Sometimes I hate synchronicity.

I never thought I’d see the day; the Universe is telling me to let go.

Mirror in the sky… What is love? Can the child in my heart rise above?

She’s here too–the child. She doesn’t want to let go. She doesn’t want to rise above. It worries me.

I can feel myself resisting things right now. 2017 was supposed to begin with this sense of newness–a novelty–a fresh start.

But you know how it started? With the old cycle. And I let it happen. I let it back in. I chose to start this year from a place of clinging.

So now I’m paying the price. And it’s creeping up, creeping in. Pushing against me. Making me anxious. Finicky. Distracted. Needy. All these old habits that tire me so. And yet I cling to them. The energy persists. The cycle of running and chasing goes on just the same. And through it all…

Can I sail through the changing ocean tide? Can I handle the seasons of my life.

She just won’t let go. And neither will I.

But it’s time. And this anxious compression… it’s telling me just the same.

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