The last couple of days have been stretched out blue. The kind of blue that lets white through, so that everything has a sort of sheen. My kitchen is a mess. The kind of mess that you avoid. I know there are a lot of you, dear Human Hearts, who know how to walk around a mess. Sometimes, I think I pile my counter with dirty dishes, so I’m forced to look inward, if only to look away. It’s a boundary to walk up against – and then, away.
In these days of stretched out blue, I’ve slept a lot. I’ve cried more than once. Yesterday, sitting on my couch, the day dark with thunderstorms. The day before that, in my car, with the radio off, driving home from the grocery store through empty streets.
Today, there is a little sun and a lot of wind. Cherry blossom petals from a tree two streets away fall with the sensation of fat raindrops over my masked face. And just for a moment, the blue evaporates.
No Accounting for Happiness 