{ this is our ungodly hour }

and i am short on words

knowing what's occurred

her bag is now much heavier

i wish that i could carry her

but they say the best way out

is through

this song is for kelly.

i like this song because it's beautiful,

but also because there's an intimacy and a brokenness in it

that i recognize. and because it's not about a man

or a relationship swooping in to make everything perfect.

it's about getting through. we don't have to hurry.

but we get there, eventually, somehow.

-------------------

i told jillian last night that i'm in a grey place. 

not broken in two, but not mended either.

and it leaves me at a literal loss for words.

i've spent so many years talking about my feelings about this one thing. and it seems like everything i've felt has been a spoke in the great wheel of one consuming situation. now i think i'm really starting to come out of that orbit. but it leaves me wondering who and what i am in another galaxy.

isn't it strange how we are so adaptable that we often come to register something unhealthy as the norm? i suppose in hindsight there would be dozens of ways in which we willingly adopted patterns we knew weren't good for us, but in real, forward-time, it always seems imperceptible. or maybe i just don't want to assume responsibility. that could be it.

up to a certain point, i think it's strength that allows us to bend. i made enough space in my life for grief so i could still function. and that's good, right? but then past that certain point (of uncertain location, of course), the space in my life i made for that grief was....most of the space in my life. it wasn't just an allowance, it was....substance. too much of it.

by that point (you know, the one at which you realize you've gone too far but it's impossible to go back and do things differently), how do you fix it?

life is just pointillism.

millions of refractions, choices,

realizations.

lately i have so many questions.

my voice is tuned to lament.

how do i learn to sing again?