The Sunday Post: Gray Skies

Woke up listening to the rain on the roof and the sound comforted me. Sunday mornings are for sleeping in and the sound of rain always seems to make that even cozier. But it was still early, not even seven yet, and I was awake. I’ve been waking early these days and can’t get back to sleep. Rather than fight it, I got up and grabbed by morning pages journal and a pen and decided to write in bed this morning. I’ve only been writing a page a day these days, but I’ve written every day since late May. You can probably guess what prompted me to take up this habit again.

Writing comforts me and also helps me sort through the millions of thoughts going through my head at any given moment. Sometimes I only write about one of these thoughts, as there are days when I wake up with one thought top of mind, and then there are times when I jump from one to the next within one paragraph. That’s kind of how this blog post is going, don’t you think?

Anyway, I did write a page, and then I rolled out the mat for a half hour of yoga. It was a low-to-the-ground practice today, with lots of breathing with eyes closed. Perfect for a rainy Sunday morning. Then I made coffee and pulled out the laptop with the intention of working on my short story. But I got distracted. Facebook was calling to me, and then Instagram. I was wondering how the band’s show at Amy’s was last night. Was there a crowd? Was the crowd practicing social distancing?

I’m trying to disengage a little bit from the band. I still care and want them to succeed. But considering that I’m moving away and no longer living with a member of the band, it seems like I shouldn’t be so involved with the administration of their social media and website. I’m willing to help but I don’t want it to look like I’m there in an attempt to hang on to a connection with him. I want to go to the show next weekend as it’s the last one I can attend in person before I move, but I’m hesitating for that reason (plus the whole pandemic issue, of course). He’s encouraged me to go to as many shows as I want and doesn’t find it uncomfortable at all, so there’s no reason I should worry about what anyone else thinks about it.

This week coming up is my last week in the office and my last full week in Fredericksburg. I’m looking forward to setting up my new place and checking out the area. I wish this pandemic was over so I could say farewell to Fredericksburg properly, but I guess it’s just as well. I’d probably just start crying. It’s better to do my crying in private.

But I’m not crying as much these days. I understand how we got here and why. The two of us are at a crossroads, but we’re going in different directions now. The time that we spend together these days is spent talking about writing, where we think we might live a year from now, or even venting about whatever’s on our minds. He’s my biggest supporter and I’m still his biggest fan. Do I wish things were different? Yes, I still do. But I’ve accepted the reality that we can’t go back; we can’t allow ourselves to go backwards. Forward is the only way to go.

The sky is still gray outside today, but I know there are sunny days ahead.

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