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What If All Of This Were Enough?
Feeling my sanity slip away, I’m reminded I have an option to see things differently.
I woke up this morning like I did every other day the past three weeks and will wake up for the foreseeable future. Today is Saturday, but I had to check my phone just to be sure. It could be Tuesday or Easter, it really makes no difference.
But today I felt a new sort of heaviness laced with agitation clouding my mind; the kind that coffee nor a morning shag on the counter of my boyfriend’s kitchen could cure.
It’s anxiety; it’s boredom; it’s all of it in between. It’s the thought of not leaving this house until June, maybe August. And it’s what those thoughts incite within me — I’d say a stomach ache mixed with a longing for something, just a little more.
I’ve seen these walls. I’ve felt the cold, unforgiving tile beneath my feet — every day, all day. And every day to come. They are part of me and I them. I’ve lost my identity in these rooms, that or my sanity, but, honestly, what is the difference?
I’ve breathed in the air of the surrounding valley, partly covered in scorched fauna from the fires; mostly covered in nature prevailed. I never saw myself living here, a stone’s throw from Los Angeles but removed from the hustle and bustle, one I…
