Today feels like a Sunday to end all Sundays.
Waking up in a warm daze, I rolled out of bed.
I pulled my bike out of the shed this morning to see its first dusting of rust in 30 years. Maybe it did better in it's former owners basement. Perhaps even better left in the dust at burning man where it began the leg of it's journey up to my back garden. The brake handles froze my fingers as I rode down to Katie's and back up to Mountain Highway, circling around on the flat bit to try to have a bit of fun. My bangs were too long though and I had this aching suspicion that my best flick wouldn't be able to grant me the seconds necessary to see a car comming and dodge it. I have thoughts like these.
As soon as I came through my front door my pink hands felt all warm and numb running through the fur on the top of my dogs head in a safe sort of way.
Sandra Bullock and Jennifer Aniston Movies under blankets, knitting a gift headed for Halifax, birthday and soon-to-be roommate cards sealed and ready to go and tears for my future. I hadn't realized that Even Rachael Wood was in Practical Magic. I have cried all 3 times I have seen that part where the sisters come together in blood and love to release the evil within Gill as they are circled by the brooms. I like that movie.
I switched my jeans back for pj pants at 3 in the afternoon.
It looks like one of those summer nights that only call for a best friend and a touch of freedom to make it all perfect. But, it's not. It's cold out. The grass still is a bit crunchy where it is near the bushes and it isn't going to get warm enough for a little while yet.
In a breath I had today I could see my fear for this next step in my life. I was looking out the window that I have looked out of since I was a kid, and wanted to wish all of this self pity away. My ever aching suspicion of holding on to 17 as a safety mechanism washed over me once more; the excuse to maybe not be quite ready yet to close my eyes and truly trust my gut. A reason to fake it and be alright with that. I could trust in that, trust in the security of fear and the underachieved. But, I can't. It will be a new day tomorrow and I know that. The sooner I go to bed the sooner I will be eating breakfast with a person who inspires me to take the risks I need to in order to be true to myself and the me I want to be on days where I stand apart from her.
Happy Sunday Sarah.
No comments:
Post a Comment