Of welcoming a hot flash (not mine), appreciating the nice, and questioning hunger.

  1. Diurnal.
  2. I make hummus in the dark and write my soul a reminder that it’s different now. It’s okay to falter in my vulnerability when faced with an old trigger. It no longer has power; I’ve taken it back.
  3. The heat is a welcome embrace on my bare arms and legs after the chill of the last few days. I soak it up as if I could store it up for the coming winter.
  4. We say goodbye with gifts and letters and hugs but no tears. It’s not that kind of relationship (though it should be). I whisper prayers of thanks as we walk home for the final time, grateful for the years of solace and community, and close the chapter.
  5. I’m developing a great appreciation for things that are nice as they become more scarce in a world saturated with the politics of pain.
  6. Ring around the rosy.
  7. Hurricane-force wind leaps from still skies, driving white sheets of rain sideways across the city. I think of Florida as she sits inside the open back door and watches and listens and sings to the storm.
  8. I would’ve chosen by fear before. This time, I choose by love.
  9. I’ve grown enough to ask the question, “What am I actually hungry for?” but not enough to know the answer.
  10. Bedtime, dishes, cat, trash, laundry, jammies, ablutions, cat again, noticing. Waiting.

Author: Ellie

Uppity stardust. Will eat (almost) anything.

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