All under the boughs unbowed

All these feelings, now nine years old, are resurfacing and overwhelming and I wish it was appropriate to cry all the time but I'm also kind of glad it's not.
It's frustrating because I don't even know why I'm getting sad or nervous- it's not like they can tell me anything I don't already know.
Tomorrow will be a reminder of reality, as if it's not already something I think about every day.
I would really just like a fast-forward button, or a big, fat joint.

I just didn't think I would be this sad.

This is pouring rain.

This is not the sound of a new man or crispy realization
It's the sound of the unlocking and the lift away
Your love will be
Safe with me

27

Happy birthday to my best friend.

You were who you thought you were.

The floors are falling out from everybody I know.

Last night my dad found me bawling on the floor of our laundry room.

Weeks, maybe months of bullshit building up in my head.

I don't even know how long we were talking; I lost any measurement of time after I finished folding clothes.

I would be absolutely nowhere without my dad.

There's an ancient pull.

It's the little differences.