If Wishes Were Candy..And The River Was Whisky

I am tired.

I am sore.

I am grateful for rain, M&Ms, my kid, and people who will take me in even when I am an asshole (thanks, Mom).

I would like to wake up in my own bed (which no longer technically exists, as I gave it away before we moved), in my own house.

I am grateful for steady writing assignments and dogs that sleep on the bed and love you SO MUCH when you wake up.

I would like to be done with this quest. I would like to no longer be on this path, or at least I would like to step off for a few moments and just be light and free. It is wearing, to have the steady hum of missing a person and reforming a life without them be the background white noise to your entire life, but not really knowing it until something quiets just enough to hear the hum. I wish I could quiet that hum.

I am grateful that I live in a place where I get to wish for that. If wishes were candy...and the river was whisky...

If the river was whiskey and I was a duck

I'd dive to the bottom and I'd never come up

Oh, tell me how long have I got to wait?

Oh, can I get you now, must I hesitate?

I am also grateful that I am not a black man in this country, but that's a whole other blog and so heart-wrenching and awful to me right now that I cannot even give it too much space in my head for fear that it will take me to a really bad place. It's hard enough to take small sips of the violence in Gaza and the poverty in the world without having to think about how little has really changed in the minds and hearts of the U.S. since Jim Crow.

But I digress.

I should go to sleep now. I should eat less chocolate so I can actually do that.

Tomorrow, I will worry less. I will breathe more.

(Image)