Tuesdays and other days

I never would have believed it 10 years ago—the way I love things has changed, what I love has changed so drastically and with no action of my own—life just grew and I grew and not in the ways I was necessarily hoping to, but in ways that were obviously necessary for my own survival.
I appreciate the quiet now; the stillness of the moment and of being in it. For so long my main focus was taking myself out of the moment. Being left alone with my thoughts and in turn, feelings, had become more than I could bear, or maybe, more accurately- more than I wanted to bear. So I worked, with great effort, to remove myself for the moment- to medicate myself out of the heartbreak of my disappointment and lost myself in the gray—in the static. I can sit still now. I don’t need the distraction of evening plans or the hustle and bustle of constant activity. I can sit and I can just be and I’m learning to value what happens and what doesn’t happen in those moments.
I have become conscience of my place on the map. I have resigned myself to the fact that I am an adult and that I really do want to be treated like one and that it is an earned privilege and not a God given right. Years do not amount to respect, but action certainly does. I own a home, and pets, I have a family who looks forward to my activity in their lives and with the people they love. I have friends who depend on me, who I depend on and who deserve my full attention in the moments we share.
See I’m learning that part of growing up is caring more. I use to “not give a fuck” about a lot. The impression I give most people still doesn’t mean absolutely anything to me, but the impression I give the people who matter to me means everything. Growing up means showing up for you, the way you keep showing up for me.
All the things that hold me down now are also the things that hold me up. And that is humbling. I don’t deserve so much of this, but it keeps raining down and I keep smiling up and somehow I know we’re going to make it on this busted road together.

And I’m so glad you’re here.