Sometimes, like today, I wake up like him (I’m guessing here), with no attachment, and therefore no animosity, toward the past.
In this “new slate” state I feel lighter, and happier, and hopeful-ier for the present and future.
My demons have subsided? I don’t want to medicate with wine or gin. I don’t want to stuff my projectile-vomit feelings back down into my gut with food. Maybe my demons were never there? Maybe they were a figment of my imagination since I can’t imagine living with them now.
I want to eat when I’m hungry. Have a gin and tonic while catching up with a lost-and-then-found friend. I want to drink wine that goes so well with the food I’ve chosen to eat that there seems like not another perfect thing could be happening in the world. It doesn’t make me fell over-full or back to “reality.” It makes me feel nourished. Let’s add some candle light.
I want to smile and close my eyes at the breeze that lifts everything on my porch for a second where I’m sitting with my morning cup of coffee.
Were my heartache and destructive responses a nightmare? Did I make it through the night? Have I finally woken up to this pleasant dream? Are these tears the last hurrah of pain, or the choking gratefulness that I regained consciousness?