Monday Monsoon

So much time spent unraveling and subsequently tying up the ball of yarn within. Unsteadily pacing around the apartment, looking for clues to what happens next. Having run so far, so fast, and still finding myself taking the subway home with every other commuter who left at 5:03. Still finding that dinner has to be made, laundry has to be washed, a life has to be lived. I go through the motions like every other ghost in this modern world. This was not why I came.

Only a year ago I was in the balcony at the opera, watching La Bohème and "again the reminder to burn, to love in sparkles". The week after, writing "I have to go to New York, or I'll die." January bringing out the ultimate of my inner drama queen. I long desperately for another drunk night, another string of them.

And yet, in the back of my mind, I know that January is just the excuse. Because there is never a reason good enough to forgive not living your every day to the fullest! Not walking these streets and smiling in your heart. Not saying Yes, when asked. Not loving relentlessly and being tickled pink by all of it.

It turns out getting here was only half the battle. Turns out riding off into the sunset of happily ever after was not the end-all of my adventure. Turns out, now I have to do what I came here for.

I will have my sparkles, yet.