I cannot remember the last time I experienced real unabashed joy.
That is, without the underlying hum of numbed pain.
Any joy i find is laced in poison and made blurry to suppress everything dying inside me.
I suppose there was that time i flew out to see you in August. Though the weekend was haunted by the painful stab of uncertainty. you were unsure and i was terrified..
Maybe the time I knocked on your door last summer. it had been 2 years. sitting on your couch as you observed my every limb shaking in fear and doubt.
I guess in August, with his lies and overall indecision crashing down on me like a bad storm, was the closest i came to feeling joy.
And with every small give, i felt a thundering take.
They took me to give me something temporary.