I had the most wonderful afternoon with one of my dearest friends who was in LA for the weekend. Being with him is like coming home. I loved every minute of it.

I came home exhausted and pounded out a couple hours of work.

Now I am trying to go to bed, but this god damn post is standing in my way. I keep interrupting my writing of it, because I don’t like the truth that is coming forward. I experienced wonderful love today. I don’t want to be this angry now.

But I am. I am agitated and furious.

I am so tired, I am sick to my stomach with it.

And the fury. The fury is making my body hurt.

I want to push against the world. I want to fight the whole wide bitch of it. I am so, so angry.

I was driving home tonight, soft and sweet, and I imagined myself dancing beneath the stars. For a moment, I held nothing but rightness in my body. It felt so good. I wanted to dwell there. I want to dwell there. I hate that my life interrupts my ability to live. I hate the places where I feel stuck, and I hate myself for keeping me stuck.

I want the soft and sweet girl back. I want the tender ripeness of a body full of love. Not this rage. Not this rage.