Just had a little cry.
I’m adding to my drive playlist, up vote, down vote, working through decades of my music collection.
And I’m listening to Enigma while cooking brekky.
I find myself dancing around the kitchen, twisting and spinning, arms flowing around and above me, and being generally such a girl.
First a little happy cry.
Then I realise half a lifetime of that lost…
It feels like a life stolen.
That little girl who never got to dance and twirl.
It becomes a big cry.
But you didn’t know. You’ve had the best of both worlds. Not many people in this world get to live life as both.
I mourn her, that precious little girl who never lived in her fantasy female land.
I don’t know – I guess I need a bit of a cry. It’s been a while.
I just let the line of thought develop and indulge it and where it goes.
I can see where it’s headed but I go there anyway.
Not afraid of crying anymore. Instead I embrace the profound emotion that spills out if it, and eventually the cleansing, the release, the renewal.
Welcome back cry. You’ve been gone a bit long.