I want you to see me; but I want to be left alone. I want you to call me; and I don’t want to answer the phone. I want you to knock at my door; and I want to hide under the covers. Invite me to your party; so I can tell you I have other plans. Give me a job; so I can spit in your face and tell you I’m entitled to more. Let me talk to you through a computer; so I don’t have to look you in the eye. Let me forget what it is to be alive; so that I can escape into a lush dream where I can control when the sun sets.
Some days are wonderful.
Some days aren’t.
Some days I wake up and I feel the sun on me and I feel connected to something great, finally part of something beautiful. Other days I struggle to make sense of anything, watching helplessly as my mind slips off into oblivion.
I sat here all morning, running through ideas, trying so hard to write something great and well, I came up short.
Some days are just like that I guess.
Some days are just hard.
Let go, I’m telling myself.
But I really don’t want to. Inside I’m like a child throwing a temper tantrum.
Stop trying to make this moment great, a gentle voice says again, just let go and surrender to it. Allow it to be whatever it’s going to be.
You win, God.
And so I’m letting go of today’s pages.
I’m going to go outside and smile instead.