I’ve had entirely to much to drink. My eyes are heavy with sleep and wine, my fingers coated in butter, and mouth full of the lingering taste of arepas. Some stuff with cheese, some with butter, the last with jam. Licking my lips bring each of those tastes back into the lime light. Reliving the wine, my eyes close and I struggle to open them again. Cooking while drunk left the tips of my fingers burnt. Who needs a spatula when moving things from the frying pan to the baking sheet? Not me, not me.

Skidding across the floor on spilt oil has left my ankle wrenched. Delicious pangs of pain shoot up my leg every time it shifts in my flip flop. I was racing to the living room to get Chris’ phone as his alarm went off. My beloved fell asleep on the couch, after a long night of talking, and driving around aimlessly. We went far, windows down, the radio pulsing, and silence between us.

Earlier in the day we had his Uncle over for lunch, grilled chicken, cabbage, and watermelon… with a side of Whiskey yapping and strolling around the house next door. You see, Uncle M, who is only a few years older than us… will be renting the house next door starting June 1st. At first I was upset, didn’t we just escape this fool? But a few times now he’s been over for dinner. So kind and quiet, bringing me beer, which made me sick, and complimenting my cooking. Away from his family, he is no fool. Chris smiles a bit bigger with him around, and it is good… I will admit, to have someone we know near.

Days like today, and nights, sleepless as it was, like tonight.. Remind me of just how full my life is. The ache in my back from the gluten I ate by mistake earlier is ok. There is so much more to focus on. The sleepy smile Chris gave me when I inquired as to what time he needed to be up to go fishing. The soft whimper of the puppy as I shoo him into the crate.

The wonderful love from my friends. Mary Dawn, who messaged me out of the blue, Kelly, who for the past months has been a voice of clarity amongst the confusion that has become my life…Linda, who always has something positive to say… Honey, who says thank you, and asks to help… Bobby, the man I so rarely hear from. Random voices and words, each reminding me of how much I am loved. My mother, calling just to talk… Becky, who is so entangled in her plans for the wedding of the year in August… Nicole, expecting her first baby, pictures of ultra sounds and swollen stomachs found on my phone.

I take in every bit of kindness from these people, and my heart swells. So impossibly full of things I can’t believe I have the chance to feel. Tears, perhaps they are red, like my wine…roll over my cheeks, itchy and hot from cooking over a hot stove… reminding me of the blessings I have to count. Two hands and two feet just won’t do, I am afraid.

At the end of the month I am going to the coast to see my Mom and sister, and even Bill. My heart awkwardly beats, when I realize why. Two years, you know. May 31st. At this time last year I was still so empty, so desperately alone in a sea of people who cared to much. In the shower the other day, watching the last bit of dye from my hair run down the drain… I breathed, and felt whole. My spirit has knitted itself back together. There are still days of incredible emptiness, and despair, but most days I pull air in, and it stays… before it leaked out, slow, and so subtle I didn’t realize just what I was missing.

This new healing, I have to reach out every day and poke it. Hello, hurt, are you still there? Yes, comes the faint reply… I’m here, but you’re forgetting me more with each passing moment. Hurt, he’ll always be there, but instead of being a frozen stone in my belly, he’s becoming this warm, living part of me. Small, inconspicuous until I need to be reminded. Reminding that nights like tonight, days like today, weeks like this week, so full of ups and downs… are not to be taken for granted. Because that lovely, understanding man in the living room, he won’t be here forever. Neither will all of you. So I tickle, hurt, and say thank you. What I would do without him, without you?

At the beginning of this post, I had a point. My apologies, for losing it. When I finish the end of my glass of wine, I’ll stretch and ponder some more. But no, it’s corked and away…the last thing I need right now is more. I have enough. So much. Call me lucky, darling, who else is so blessed?