Darkness Falls

"It's a shaky foundation that this house of cards is built upon," she said.

I stop, midsentence.

Why do I suddenly feel uprooted? Dark thoughts escape from their respective cupboards in my brain. My footing hasn't been so solid as of late.

For the rest of the night, my stomach is churning. I'm sticky inside - sticky and angry. My heart is raging as if I'm on the verge of something terrible. Spontaneous combustion? A frenzied fit? Meltdown? I'm not sure.

I'm angry lately - at the world, at myself - so much so I scare my reflection. I can't pinpoint the reason. I feel unsettled - like I left my life in progress. Segmented pieces, unfinished ends. And I want to go back to finish them. Does my anger come from holding on?

I've always been one to hold on too long. I grasp a split moment to my breast and squeeze and stretch it for as long as possible. I stuff it into my heart, obsess over it, memorize it's associated smells and sidelong glances. When I was little, I would write in my diary about people I hadn't seen for years. I'd wonder about them. I sometimes still do.

I want to peek at lives that have gone on without me.

Really, I should practice the ebb and flow of letting go.