It occurs to me that perhaps I should include a warning label for recent posts and probably the ones still to come over the next week.
I hate to be the mopey, whiny, wallower.
Contrary to how it may seem, I'm not wallowing. I'm just releasing the tension, loosening the valve a bit.
I keep all these things - this anger and hurt and hate and love - bottled up, pouring more and more into the bottle until it overflows.
I should come with a warning label. Contents Under Pressure! Much like a soda bottle that has been shaken vigorously.
So I release the lid slowly.
I carefully remove a few ounces, examine it closely, rolling it around in my mind. I immerse myself in it, allowing it to flow over me as I experience every last drop. And then I rinse it down the drain, making room.
Writing allows me to do that.
I can never seem to empty the bottle, but at least this way I can keep it from spewing all over the room, making a sticky mess of everything.