The waves of yesterday don’t need to be remembered.
Yesterday I couldn’t sleep, so I rose early and sat quietly.
When I couldn’t sit, I cleaned.
When I couldn’t clean, I made soup.
I did laundry.
I wrote a bit,
and played around with an art project.
Tried to do some work.
Kicked a ball in the backyard with Ben and the dogs.
Went for an afternoon walk on the beach, and ate hot fish and chips out of a paper-wrapped bundle.
Put clean sheets on the bed.
Had a hot shower.
Cried some more.
Put myself to bed early.
And it didn’t.
Still, life goes on.
This morning, coffee and writing…
I am okay, and not okay,
and I will keep sitting quietly beside this part of myself that is empty and broken
until I don’t need to hold my own hand anymore.