On my metanoia
"And in the winter city, the rain cries a little pity.”
Streets of London, Ralph McTell
Pretty numb today.
That's a lie.
I'm half black ash and half bleeding wound. I ran through the fire to get to the other side but now I'm trying to get back in. The lake is frozen by our dock. I stood outside and willed myself to run there. My legs became too cold and weak. My mind gives me no peace. I read articles about how you know if your spouse no longer loves you. They say if you're asking, you already know the answer. I asked God to fill my heart with the serenity prayer but there's no window big enough for it to get in.
I'm sorry.
I have to allow myself to be real here.
It's all I have.