On that breezy Friday evening, she rose from that beautifully made green chair and felt lost. She knew her heart was hurting but it is the feeling of being lost that raised the alarm bells in her head. She laughed about it, maybe just to see if it will go away.
She looked for the smallest bit of inspiration from around her. A grown woman (read mama’s girl) should be able to take control of her life. She loudly said to herself “I think I am…am I?” She was blank; was it time to see someone and talk about it? Or was it time to take a break and breath before diving into all that has become her life again?
Seasons bring out the best in nature but why are her life’s seasons so cruel to her? She listened to what was happening around her, hoping to hear even the slightest of positivity and even the angels were quiet. She wondered if they were still there or they had also decided to take a break. If it were not for her enormous faith in the fact that her saint always came to her rescue, she would have changed her name.
Her dreams had become more and more disturbing. Not long ago before this, she would go for a week without a single dream and now, there she was having over three dreams in one night. Disturbingly pleasant dreams of her actual goals and aspirations. No need to to lecture her about the psychology of the subconscious and conscious mind; she knew all about that. With her level of education and status, she knew she needed to take control only she did not know how and this frustrated her.
She was so lost. She compared the feeling with the feeling of being airdropped in the middle of the ocean with no compass.
“One day” she said “I will find myself, I will get out of this and I will breath a long breath but I will keep this here in my hurt heart; like a compass I need so badly” She knew that even with the madness of her heart, it was the safest place to keep the feeling locked. Even without directions, without sense, without hope and without faith she would always let her heart be her compass.