I’m both wounded and wound up in thought. Both saddened and contemplative. Wishing things were not as difficult as they are, and yet knowing they are for the best. It’s a hard conclusion to draw when perspective is lost, but necessary. I can feel sorrow, and yet, know that stability has been the objective of all my actions. It might be unfair, or hurtful, but it is an unavoidable truth.
Tonight the lights are out. Everyone is sick. I’m alone in the dark with my thoughts. With the repetition of my actions played out again and again. I feel the wounds I have caused now more than ever. Winding up in the inky blackness of today’s end.