Fragile hearts in these fragile times often break before they ever find
That there's hope inside of this shadowland
Written in the sky and stone and printed on our hands
So why do I always measure the truth with the weight of a lie?
Nothing's broken inside of me for good I'm healing in time the way I should
I can see it if I keep my head held high
Arms open wide
Heart full, clear eyes
All the doubts all the lies are too heavy to hold so why even try?
This morning I managed to snag my favorite enamel camp mug for coffee, and it was warm when I came downstairs. Warm enough for cut-off denim shorts and my Colony House hoodie. No need for a fire this morning. The sun was already beaming down on the point and it feels like everything might be okay. Or at least as okay as it ever was, in case we hoped for some massive snowball of improvement tagging along when our routine resumes someday.
PJ usually takes my mug. It has a huge handle and so he finds it comfortable. Plus it has a stable base and isn't top-heavy like the matching ones that came with the plates when we bought four sets for the house. PJ isn't all that concerned with putting his cup down on a stable base and will absentmindedly place it on the corner of a laptop or the arm of the couch. He was used to things a certain way, and I guess today he'll have to be disappointed as he takes one of the white mugs with the tiny base and be careful with it. It's a Wednesday. Monday is done, the full moon is done, and when I went to the grocery store today, every shelf was full. It was like the good old days, when they had everything and then some. I was happy to get everything I wanted and some extras and get home with no fuss. It was a nice change.
Sigh. It's going to be a good day. A bright day. No dark, no clouds. Just sunshine and coffee and the rest of my book and yes, I'm drawing the property for you but it's going to take a while, as I have a time-sensitive project that needs my attention first.
Besides, I need a little more sleep too and I'm waiting for that to catch up with me but with a second cup of coffee, I'm wondering if it even will.
I had some brandy last night, a toast, clinked far too slowly against Caleb's glass in celebration of a better week this week after a rocky start. He took our glasses in one hand and my face in the other and kissed me until I saw the stars outside through the ceiling as if it wasn't even there.
I held my breath until I fell through the black, letting go of my breath along with everything else and in my oxygen-deprived dreams Loch made an executive decision to bring Caleb along into our private night. Whether to keep an eye on him or give him a break, maybe in light of seeing how this forced isolation is affecting us all, he's found some patience after all.
He found a lot of things. They get along so well sometimes it's as if they're sharing one mind and sometimes their heart doubles to hold me too and it's like the greatest amusement park ride you've ever been on, trust me.
And then I slept, locked in between hell and magic, secure in the holy tragedy of my past, present and probable future, perfectly content and not overly warm or even overly weird.
It was nice. We've scheduled another time. See if Caleb can remain on his best behavior. See if Lochlan doesn't turn possessive. Find a way to keep all the hearts and minds in sync and fight off the despair of this maybe becoming the way things are forever.
They won't be but what if they are?