It was 4:45am on a Wednesday morning and I decided that today I was ready for life. You know the feeling, there’s an entire itinerary that you have mentally created while your eyes are still closed and today is the day deemed the most productive. Yes, today I wanted to live all the lives I could possibly live within 24 hours. You know what woke me up? There was this damn buzzing I kept hearing but paying it no mind because sometimes the fan makes this weird noise when the ac comes on and what the hell, because I’m paying damn near $1,300 in rent for all this noise? Jokes on me because it was a damn wasp just flying around tryna make home amongst my flowers. I wanted to tell it “same bruh, I’m tryna make a home in this bitch too” but I didn’t, I just watched it fly around as I packed this morning. It’s a weekend trip and I have three different bags for three different needs. Who likes to pack I ask the wasp as he flies past me. Why am I not scared this morning like I typically am of these damn shits? I normally kill these shits. I blame the headboard of fake flowers I created one manic Saturday afternoon while standing in the middle of a the flower section in Michael’s. Why are you still alive young wasp? Ahhh, my adrenaline is pumping this morning after the cascade of tears fell prior to my alarm going off. Puffy face and laughing, my life is a joke at this moment. Remember I do yoga every Tuesday evening and I told you this, remember? Do you remember anything? Anything? If I would have told you what happened this morning I wonder if the next time you tried to reach out you would have remembered why I cared not to respond. I laughed so hard on the way to yoga yesterday evening I cried. No, not happy tears, not my sides are hurting tears. No, broken, sad, breaking point tears. The type of tears that make you gasp for air as you run through the past 29 years of your life, trying to figure how you got to this very point. It was a wild ride to yoga last night.
And during child pose I cried some more.
And I’m saying all this to say I’ve been avoiding my therapist. There are certain truths that I would rather not be faced with during these fragile times. I am liable to break even more and I can’t handle it.
I saw her three weeks ago and since then, there are literal pieces of my life on the floor next to the dead wasp.