One day

Its taken years. Writing took the backburner and kids awkwardly hit center stage. Therapy and bad religion, heartbreak and awakening, fears conquered and new fears dancing. Mostly I have been hiding in some kind of bubble of fake indifference. One day I woke up and felt that tingle of caring that I’d forgotten existed. Sometimes when I’d bake, hearing the familiar sounds of the oven temperature ticking, the smell of an idea coming to fruition and my worries would melt so quickly. Then life disturbed me once more, banging on my head with migraines, a bitter ex and the misplaced guilt of lost childhoods…oh Browning, take me back to simple days. One day when I don’t have to feel my esophagus spasm with anxiety. One day when I can play in the flowers and laugh, not staying awake pondering health insurance bills.

One day to feel content with not being content.