I’m trying to figure out this weird season I’m in. Staying up late at night to write stuff like this helps. It truly does.
La vie est belle.
So are poems.
Hopefully, someone out there can relate. Life is confusing, beautiful, filled with laughs, frustrations, cries, dancing, not sleeping enough, trying to eliminate the what if’s, feeling guilty for being selfish and feeling selfish for not being selfless enough. Wanting to do so much, but feeling the effects of trying to do too much. Missing places, feelings and moments, but being grateful, and in the end really just wanting to be on a deserted island for a few days with a cold beer, a few coconuts, a white sandy beach and a fun, not too big but not too small fun wave out front.
I need a nap. Or just a dozen really really long deep breath.