Do you remember how in 2008 I decided to start a No Feelings plan, which was a joke even then because when have I ever been anything but raw nerves and poker face and hurricanes for hands? I think about it, sometimes, the optimism of deciding that I could just brute force myself into some new shape. The joke is that I'm still doing it, pretending with one hand that feelings are for suckers and with the other filling my tote bag full of them to review later. Always swiveling unpredictably between a good one and a bad one, always sure that they're both true at the same time.
It's hard to be in charge of all the weather, braiding lightning and sunshine and soft grey clouds together. I feel like what I've built should be visible from space but I'd be happy enough if you held all of this cupped close in your hands. I don't know the shape of what comes next, which of my moves will bring petrichor and which will bring disaster, but it's certain to be one of the two in the end.
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