I dropped my phone and broke it, had a few drinks at the bar, drunkenly took a book about “hope in a time of despair” from one of those little free library book things and immediately spilled wine on it and then my internet was down and then I locked myself out of the house and I fell and then I cried with my friend and then I talked and I talked and I talked about life and love and then my other friend threw up and really, I could keep going but I’ll stop because you likely get the gist by now, but if you don’t, let me just say that life is a comedy and a love song and a gorgeous catastrophe from which we cannot escape because no one’s getting out alive.
Death, am I right? So weird. Around here we avoid the topic, but it forces its way into our lives one way or another. In these moments I am fully aware of just how much I love the people in my life. Like, I am in love with these people. They are funny and they bring me joy and laughter and they accept me despite the things I do when I’m just trying to avoid death. They listen to me when I talk myself in circles and cause my own fit of anxiety. They comfort me in the right ways when I’m cold and blank inside.
They know when I’m feigning toughness because I’m actually wearing my giant, hopeful heart on my sleeve 24-7 and there’s nothing I can do about it. They teach me all the time and I’m a better woman for it.
I’m weird. They’re weird. And they’ve taught me just how much it’s okay to be wholly and unapologetically me.
So anyway, all of this popped into my brain last night when we were on the way back from the funeral home and while I was 100% in the midst of my own tornado of me and I had to laugh at it all because, like, this is life and it’s absurd and fun and I wouldn’t want it to be any other way.