Wednesday, June 2, 2010
Four days ago I felt a flicker of hope about the future. Maybe like Noah when the dove returned with the olive branch. I bet he was hating life. You've got to pity a guy who gets up every morning hoping in vain to see land while sharing an over-sized barn with every animal alive. I feel better already.
My moment happened at 72 mph somewhere in Southeastern Virginia. The windows were rolled down, Lady Gaga was singing something about poker, and clouds billowed brightly against a royal blue sky.
I can't describe the exact feeling that warmed my body, but it had something to do with my wife, who was napping peacefully in the passenger seat. Everything went in slow motion, the scene somehow morphed fifteen years into the future, and the chattering voices in the backseat became the voices of our future children. Our family was happy, healthy, and vacationing together. This is a future I could get used to, I smiled softly to myself.
For the next hour I proceeded to analyze the feeling and where it came from. Don't hate me, that's who I am. Why do I feel hopeful for the first time in months? Is it the weather, the road-trip, being with people maybe? No, I decided. It was not any of those traditionally serotonin-inducing activities.
It was without question the new blog. I've been emotionally swollen for months. Slowly marinating in my own toxic stew of pain. Like an abscess I've needed to be lanced and drained before the poison kills me. The blog has been my pinhole. The entries, however disturbing, have been the infection slowly leaving my soul. I imagine there's more to come, but I'm less afraid than before.