Leaf blower welcomed me through the sunshine window this morning. Persistent for some time and droning, lulling me to remain in the sheets. I sat at the desk, watched as the leaves floated up instead of spiraling down. Currents rising, wind shaking the green and blue post-it notes on the varnished wood above my brow. Slick brick floor, misty rain. Caution tape wrapped around the fence, flagging. My head filled, my thoughts consuming, my heart soggy and groggy to match these slate clouds. My love for her has yet to fail astonishing me and there is magic in it. We breed happiness, which suppose makes me half of that happiness. She the other. Though she sends me words of sadness and anxiety at 2:56 this morning, all I could do was sleep. All I can do now is listen to songs and read her words again and want to do something, want to change things, want to fix the sorrow and misery. I make comparisons again, build off the reference point, think “Again?” in some aspects. But not at all. I’m afraid to be the spark in the dark. I’ve been there. I’ve been the well of happiness and good and love during times of insecurity and fear and sadness. Which is why I think “again”. I don’t mind it, though. And with her, I’m not so much afraid because I believe that she will not place the misery on me.
But why do I want to take it?
Give me it all and I can disperse the weight.
I know that is wrong, because this isn’t about me. She must find her own solution, and not simply in me. And I can’t fix the problems. God, I want to fix them but there is not much I can do in that way.
I don’t know. My words are running in circles.
I need to go to my fencing lesson, and class, and study Italian and Cognitive Neuropsychology and I’m on page nothing of 8-10. So I should stop writing and worrying myself too much.
