risparmi me

Today I painted my office. Calming barely-there blues and into-the-void-nothing-nothing white. I needed to be swallowed up by the paint and have it spit back out a whole new me, myself & moi. Someone said I was being boring with the brushes. Someone else asked about my blood pressure. Was I surviving the seething? No. Not really. 24 hours and I-Can’t-Come-In-Because-It’s-Raining hasn’t help.
But, painting helped. Somewhat.
What I really want is to be back among the lupines. I want to lay belly down in the tallest of purples and pinks and drink in their scent. Inhale their unconditional love. I want the sun to go down, the fireflies to come out and the diplomatic darkness to douse my fire of fury. I want to hold hands in the descending twilight, close my eyes and talk about houses, hula hoops and hope. Drink wine and laugh about nothing just to laugh outloud.
Just to say we could.
I want to tickle AT and hold SR close, just to be comforted and cocooned by their innocence.
I don’t know if I’ll survive the conflagration in the coming weeks. I am afraid of what my barely contained electric anger is capable of sparking. My hands shake when I think about the voltage of revenge I could unleash. I’ve got it all right here and like I said, barely contained. I fear I might lose control.
I tried running last night and it was a mess. I was a mess. I dropped my music, lost my groove, fell out of step, choked back vomit, and barely made it through 31 minutes. I wanted to sweat more so the tears could come and be camouflaged. Nothing felt right. Nothing is right right now.
Bottom of the barrel: 2.96