Ficlets

Head back, I stare into the cloudy dark sky.The moon peeps a shadowy glow through the haze from time to time, like a returning friend.Trees stand darker against the purple backdrop.Lyrics crying into my eardrums from the closely set headphones, blocking out the traffic, the sirens, the voices.
I repeat the words to myself over and again in my mind as I close, deepening the darkness I sit in.I’m slowly learning that “sometimes it a good hurt.”I keep reminiscing, knowing that the more I can face it, and be happy, the closer I can come to letting it go all together.That’s something people fail to tell you: “Just let it go, forget about it.”The “just doesn’t belong in that statement. Letting go takes time.Letting go of something that consumed you forces you to reform everything you thought you were.It’s a delicate balance, this regaining of sanity. Not to lose the core of who you are, but removing all the clutter.It’s a spring cleaning that can take years.