I just feel like crying all the time now. Grieving D, which almost actually feels good - but that’s only one feeling bringing me to tears. It’s like allowing myself to love and grieve love has ripped this hole open. I cry at how beautiful the clouds are. I cry about how amazing the jasmine smells. I cry seeing bees. I love bees. I cry about how much I love my upstairs neighbors. I cry when the dog puts his paws on the bathtub to check on me in the bath. I cry as I tell the grocery store bagger that her hair looks amazing and the student worker that she is ubercompetent. I cry talking about Mozart in the Jungle and immigration law and about the Virgin Islands. I cry about how much I love this rental car (VW Passat; I never cared about cars before and goddamn it I’m driving like an asshole but I freaking LOVE this car and I get places 10 minutes sooner driving it). I cry in gratitude for car insurance and for the fact my car will be in the shop for more than a week so I can keep driving this beautiful beautiful machine. I cry when I finally find that song I’ve been craving.
Ok, heart. I get it. You’re functioning again. I missed you. It’s been a long time stuffing you down.
Breakdowns, breakthroughs, yadda yadda pop psychology delivered via yoga instructor while I’m vulnerable in shivasana.