Photo Sarah Moon
“Your cold mornings are filled with the heartache about the fact that although we are not at ease in this world, it is all we have, that it is ours but that it is so full of strife, so that all we can call our own is strife, but even that is better than nothing at all, isn’t it?…And as the ax bites into the wood, be comforted in the fact that the ache in your heart and the confusion in your soul means that you are still alive, still human, and still open to the beauty of the world, even though you have done nothing to deserve it. And when you resent the ache in your heart, remember: You will be dead and buried soon enough.”
Paul Harding, Tinkers
This morning I resented the ache. I hated that pervading sadness permeating onto my morning bliss. I long to wake up smiling and not hurting. I long to wake up eager to face the new day and not cowering under cover wishing I might die unexpectedly in a foolish accident between me and an oncoming train. I long to awaken filled with self-confidence and sassiness, I long to feel beautiful and know the carnal bliss we all write about. I really long to be desired like something completely worthy of being desired, to be loved in a way that is unequal to all other ways. I long to feel success that I owe to no one, to be recognized for essential things. I long to wake up in your arms, surrounded by your passion, drowning in your emotions, engulfed in your heat. I long to forget myself, at least for a moment.
PS: If this looks squished to you, believe me, it looks squished to me as well. I’m about to scream.