All this wittering of glee and honesty. I should've known. Did I speak too soon? It's just that I am of the Pollyanna temperament and try oh-so-very-hard to truly believe that it'll all be okay and everyone will land up with the one they love and happiness will abound and good will always beat evil. And then, WHAM, it doesn't always. Sometimes big lurking monsters leap from behind a tree and knock you flat, smothering you in their dank, gray fur. The reality of it is too much to bear.
One conversation and my heart crumples. The air leaves the room. It is suddenly too hard, I know why, I feel it too. One part of me says run, get out, leave now. The other says stay, you can do this, you're stronger than this, but only together. And then the other part - a dull throb, the tears drop, fat and heavy, uncontrollable, throat-tightening. I can't breathe.
This sadness, this confusion, is like a hot iron, branding me at every turn. An impossible choice, or so it seems. It isn't though. We both know it but it's a more difficult decision than seems bearable. It will be a week of sole (and soul) contemplation, a time, 8 months down the line, to decide. A time to test this thing, it hangs in the balance, my heart is breaking. For her. For me. For us.
There is no question of the love, the question is just whether it's enough to weather this storm?
World Penguin Day
1 day ago