Madispace

because why shouldn’t I hear what it has to say

I filled the kettle with water and lit the stove. I grabbed two mugs and chose my favorite tea and filled each glass with boiling water. I sat down at the table with both of the steaping glasses in front of me with the empty air. Silence. So, I asked the first question, “What brings you here today?”. Then another, “Was it something I did?”. And another, “I thought I was doing everything right.” But that last one wasn’t actually a question, but mostly a statement. Because for awhile now I haven’t been actually acknowledging how I felt. I wasn’t wanting to listen to it talk. Not today at least. Until it came knocking on my door, and now it sits across from me. Now I am going to sit still and listen to what it has to say, because I can no longer ignore it.

Our talk was long and emotional. I let it tell me what it needed to tell me, even if it made me cry. So I just continued to sip my favorite tea. When hopelessness had finished, I took a deep breath and felt a release. I stood up, thanked it for coming by, and said, “until next time” and I let it go. What I had been harboring was aching to get out and after I was so glad I had listened.

I then went into my bedroom and pulled back the blinds and watched the sun for awhile. I looked around my room at the space I have, the old photos of myself with friends, all my plants, my cat laying on the bed next to me, my favorite sweatshirt that always keeps me at the perfect temperature. Hopelessness was just a visitor, it didn’t need to stay.

I heard another knock at the door. I went downstairs to open it and there stood gratitude, a friend I will always invite in for tea, but this one I’d like to stay.