Afterglow

Resisting the temptation to do something I'll regret is something I haven't perfected yet.

The result of this lack of control is quite simple: I pay for it each and every time.

I wish I could say I took it all in stride. That I was the bigger person, and walked away with my dignity and heart intact. But then I'd just be another liar with my pants on fire hanging by a telephone wire.

I was not brave. I whined about the world and how it had turned against me. I cried on every pillow I owned. I stood in the mirror so I could see the mascara tracks caused by the deplorable wreck that was my life (I'm really not proud of that one). I shook my fist at the ceiling and told God He wasn't real.

And in response, He kept loving me the way He had been loving me since time began.

I was handed warmth when I lost myself in the winter of my sorrow. I was given light for the shadows I had gathered for myself.

That light was aggravating. How dare there be happiness while I was trying to think about everything that truly sucked about this world?

  

Down in my dark dark room, in my dark dark heart, there was a sunny cheerful ray of sunshine that knocked relentlessly at the door of my unhappiness.

I opened the door just a bit, out of curiosity, to see why an unstoppable force such as the Creator of the Universe would be interested in visiting my kingdom of self-pity. 

Bit by bit, I'm tearing that castle down. And bit by bit, I'm putting the grudges away.

Turns out, it's a lot easier to walk when you let things go.

And it's a lot easier to see with the lights on.

Love,

Chloe