spinning circles

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The raindrops are ricocheting off the driveway outside my window, pinging against the cement and flowing into the cracks. I spend more time than I should staring at them.

I keep thinking their calming rhythm will release the tightrope strapped painfully taunt within in me. I’m restless.

Restless because I’m hungry. Restless because I am chilled. Because I have work to do that I don’t really feel inspired to finish. Because I can’t find my a document I need to do my taxes. Because my place is a mess. Because it’s too quiet.

But really, it’s because someone else has chosen something fleeting over me before we even had a chance. Once again.

There is nothing I can do about it. And nothing I should do about it, because by its virtue, the choice disqualifies him. Or at least it should.

Periodically, I think about it in the same circles I have thought about it a hundred times. I arrive at the same place as the time before. And it frustrates me. And maybe even infuriates me. And makes me silently yell at God for not budging or myself for going down yet another dead end road or him for being so shortsighted.

I find myself wishing for the big gesture that will never come. Because who makes a big gesture for someone you just met?

So I turn up the heat and make lunch and do work and search for my illusive documents and clean and turn on music. And it doesn’t solve anything. But at least it is a momentary detour from the circles I’m spinning.


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