I am ready to call it a day, readers, but oh! I have so much

I wish to write. For the sake of my rest and your patience, (and also the fact that I probably am not far from drifting beyond lucidity) I will keep things brief.

When one consciously chooses gratitude, how the world does seem so better balanced. Two nights ago, I had my “heart” stomped on a little bit. I hate the way that sounds but it is simply the easiest way to say what I mean without meandering on for pages. A very dear friend and sort of partner, love interest, not-quite-ex but not quite not-ex… anyways: one of the most important people in my life essentially told me that I have been replaced, that they have already found someone as (if not more) important, beloved, and cherished, as/than I ever was to them. (Pardon my shitty syntax…) Ouch. It is a whole thing, between him and myself, readers, a whole big thing that is now a whole big messy thing, and I would that I could go into more detail but that is not really my goal here. The reason I say all of this is not to gather empathy or to cry about how my heart is in a million shattered pieces on the ground. No. My purpose for sharing this bit is to celebrate my response. I am hurting, I am upset. When I first was told this “news” on Saturday, I went quickly to a dark place. The temptation to self-harm grew wildly intense. The part of my mind that spews nasty comments at me got louder. And then, suddenly, there was a calm. “I’m incredible. I’m incredible. I’m incredible.” I started to hear this… I started to hear this from myself. What an act of self-love. Even if I did not believe it, I heard it clearly: “I’m incredible. I’m incredible. I’m incredible.” And then I heard my Bubby’s voice from a the other night, her saying to me “You’re blooming! You’ve been through so much, but you’re carrying through and you’re blooming.” I am blooming.

It is quite the trying task to bring harm to a being that is supposedly incredible, supposedly blooming.

This all coming to mind as I cried in my car, I flashed back through moments from the past week, through visions of the world beyond me. I saw my brilliant writing teachers sitting at their desks ,so patient and attentive and generous, as I worked with them during office hours. I saw my friends who are so imperfect yet so loving and ever adding to my faith in humanity. I saw the houses around me, the lawns, and through the windshield of my car, the wet dark of a neighborhood road & the wet dark of a world so alive.

I got out of my car. I went inside and made my way to my basement apartment. It was almost midnight. I set a dim light, let my tears dry right there on my cheeks, grabbed for my headphones. Earth, Wind & Fire’s “In The Stone” is a killer power anthem. I danced my butt off. I swiveled my hips, shook everything everywhere, strutted about. Then another song came on, and I just let one more play after one more after one more. And I danced.

In a way, it seems like I was dancing for the purpose of escapism. Turn on funky music, dance, get rush of endorphins, and pain and present suddenly disappear. But really that isn’t what was happening, or at least not for the large part. For some bloody reason, I had joy. Genuine joy. Joy for life, for the ability to dance alone in a basement at midnight, for the fact of existence in the fact of this world. Dancing only slightly took my mind off of my hurt, but it reinforced my understanding of my strength. It reinforced my desire to constantly choose gratitude and joy.

Dancing does not mean never crying. Choosing gratitude does not mean never hurting. Choosing joy does not mean never being upset.

It is going to take me a while to sort through all of the pain that this person has brought up for me. I see a therapist three times a week. We shall not have lack for topical material… And that is all well and good. C’est la vie. Sometimes, “c’est la vie” is a copout. And sometimes c’est la vie is simply c’est la vie.

And on that note, I bid you goodnight (and a promise of less fatigue-bloodied prose).

Until next time, Nina@middle