Much like I seem to spend time every day thinking about writing and wanted to write and doing nothing, I also seem to be spending time every day thinking about crying and feeling the need to cry and not.
Usually I would turn on Steel Magnolias and let the tears flow, but recently I’ve just spent time sitting on the edge of my bed in the quiet, thinking about feeling like crying.
It feels as though I’m waiting for something to spill over, for the dam to burst.
It feels like a bubbling up of something. The calm before the storm.
The countdown to a much needed holiday is on. Time for deep breaths, tears and smiles. And wondering what the hell else this year can throw at us.