I cannot read this without feeling “some kinda way.”
And, I loathe that saying.
It’s like someone pulled back the shower curtain while you were getting “so fresh and so clean" & exposed your unmentionables to a a massive crowd waiting to lap up its beauty and wholeness.
I am not one for drama. I think it carries a funk about it that cannot be covered up with Glade’s “Clean Linen” or Febreeze.
But, this does not feel dramatic to me. It feels like the setting right of things that mysteriously went wrong. My toes are tingling, to read the anger you obviously sat on, Mother Hen to her egg, it’s tapping at my mental in a way I cannot quite contain.
I hate that whatever happened, happened.
I hate that a ton of people may be affected.
I hate that this space is now “Ground Zero,” painful memories & crushed dreams.
But, not really. It isn’t. The 3 of you are a freaking powerhouse of excellence, “bursting at the seams.” I do not think I’d want to eff with H. Nemesis Nyx, she’s got that arm, you know? Nothing good can come from being swatted at with something as beautifully concocted and well-built as that.
All of this being said, y’all have my ear. It was to the ground, listening, seeking, searching. It is now lifted straight up, God-centered. Who’s throwing which pitch? And, how far are y’all trying to hit it?
“Every little thing’s gonna be all right. Don’t Worry about a thing.”