Nobody will protect you from your suffering. You can’t cry it away or eat it away or starve it away or walk it away or punch it away or even therapy it away. It’s just there, and you have to survive it. You have to endure it. You have to live through it and love it and move on and be better for it and run as far as you can in the direction of your best and happiest dreams across the bridge that was built by your own desire to heal.--"Tiny Beautiful Things" by Cheryl Strayed
I left Iowa this morning. My brother and my aunt and uncle drove me to the Twin Cities where I boarded a plane, flew away, rode a shuttle bus, then got delivered to my door by a friend. With every breath I took today, I left my mother farther and farther behind. Now I'm home in my quiet house--the place I once called Margaritaville before it was re-christened Pillville.
My heart is its own pressurized cabin. I can breathe here, yet it feels like the oxygen masks might drop at any moment.