sometimes when I wake up I can't move my limbs. and I lay there and stare at the ceiling and count. I count things, moments, memories, spots, days.
and sometimes once I do get moving I walk slowly down the long hallway in my bare feet. listening to every creak and feeling every bend in the 1930's built wooden floors. with my eyes closed. with my hand over my heart matching beats.
and sometimes, just every now and then, when I get to the bathroom I look in the mirror. I trace the outline of my face. I take deep breaths. count upward and backward. tell myself I am the best and bravest and today is my day. per usual.
sometimes, usually once a week, I stand under the water in the shower and just let the scalding hot water run down my head, across my face, and down the rest of my body. I close my eyes tightly. hope the hot water washes away any idea that you could cross my mind today.
and sometimes, mostly on the weekends, I sit outside on my front porch in a big chair and I sip coffee and listen to the birds. watch the squirrels. smell the lavender that grows over my front steps. feel thankful that I have this moment. wonder if you're having a similar moment.
sometimes, during mid week, I meet up with my friends and laugh and talk trash and sip cold beer and take thoughts of you out of my brain. I learned that being in that moment is far more important, usually.
and sometimes, at night actually, I give myself a time limit of how long I can think about you. and I send a text to my closest friend and tell them that I just don't think it's over yet. because "I would have been over it by now. everyone else I was over it within a few months."
then I lay there and I can't move my limbs. I stare at the ceiling and count. moments. rustles of the wind on the oak trees in my backyard. moments. hours. the number of deep breaths it takes to trick my brain into thinking that the thoughts of you don't get me worked up.
and sometimes, every night really, I say it again. that I am the bravest girl I know. and I close my eyes and let go.