“To love deeply in one direction makes us more loving in all others.” — Anne-Sophie Swetchine
I feel blues. That’s all there is to it. Quiet jazz in the background, sipping a glass of something, trying my best not to fall asleep to the upsetting variety of thoughts. Some part of what I think each day still clings to the possibility, the hope that something will come around, that I’ll get my wish. The real trouble is I’m not sure if I really want it, or just want the wanting of it.
Caring for one person extends my compassion to all others. I’ve noticed that, and it’s a pleasant sort of knowledge. If I can smile at someone, I leave the room happier. If I get a hug or share an inside joke, I’ll leave happy. It’s at this point that leaving doesn’t phase me– it just is, there’s better things to concentrate on.
Tomorrow is a big day, classical day. That’s how I imagine it– fine-tuned and mathematical, yet still fused with emotion. Someone is going to cry, I just know that it will happen. It might not even be a bad thing, maybe even in combination with laughter. Who knows.
I wish I understood why some things get to be better. In order for anyone to be the best, someone has to be the worst.