This has been the hardest, worst, most tumultuous year of my life. There is still a month and a half to go. But there have also been streaks of light and love and joy. Esther Perel says catastrophe has a way of propelling us into the essence of things. Well, honey, we're in the essence now. And feeling so much, all the time is so exquisite and cruel and relentless. My heart sometimes is hit by waves of pain and longing so pure it feels like I'll break into a thousand pieces. My feelings are jagged and unpredictable. My toddler exclaims, whenever I cry, "Mama has big feelings!" My baby doesn't understand anything yet. He just stares at me with his dark gray eyes as if to remind me how much I am needed, how much responsibility I carry. How can I, someone so flawed, have had a hand in creating something so beautiful?
And sometimes my beloved holds me and I cry on his chest and he strokes my hair and I'm sure that if we can just make it to the new year I'll be okay. The person I was before may have died but I think who I am now has a shot at happiness, if I can play my cards right.
My heart is like my newly postpartum body-- it may still be bleeding but it is doing its goddamn best.
