Hi, Pain –
This isn’t what I expected. This isn’t what I planned for. You’re here so much more than I imagined because you filled in the spaces that others left vacant. I never thought my life would look like this. And I’m tired of people telling me to create a new picture of happiness. I painted that image once before. I don’t have the energy to start over and I already used up all my favorite colors. For once, can someone else make art out of this mess?
Hi, Pain –
You became too much to bear and so I ran away. I’ve become a grief refugee. I know I can’t escape you completely but I came to stay in a place where contentment exists. Where the energy of honest people and joyful chaos fill in the gaps of the day so that it bursts with life. They’re not mine but I can borrow them for a little while. It is a second-hand happiness. It is a life raft as I navigate through a stagnant ocean of despair. You’ll still be there, just on the other side of familiar shores , but maybe hope will be there, too. I guess we’ll see.
Hi Pain –
You were so raucous last night I couldn’t sleep. You followed that up by distracting me with your antics all day long. I wondered why you were being more disruptive that usual today but all I had to do was look at the calendar. Sometimes I can’t believe you are still here. Then sometimes I’m forced to admit to myself it’s because I let you stay.
Hi, Pain –
It’s me, Jac. I know you’ve already been here for some time but since we never did formal introductions, I thought it would be nice. Do you plan on sticking around very long? I don’t really know what to do with you while you’re here. Judging from the sea of unpleasant expressions I see during my daily commute, I think it’s safe to say you’ve already been all over New York. I guess we’ll figure it out as we go.
.chasing bluebirds. 