"break my heart a little wider open"

Day two. 

I've started half a dozen sentences, about not being able to find the right soundtrack, about ricocheting between believing everything is going to be okay and believing the floor is made of lava, about the terrifying feeling of being uninterested in reading.  I feel fuzzy-headed, and maybe it's the crying I've been doing, or the crying I'm not doing.     Or maybe I'm learning to use new muscles, or old muscles in new ways.   Oh, metaphors.

Speaking of muscles, I have now been back to the gym twice.   Sure, it's all teeny upper body stabilization work, but it's something at least.     I keep swearing to myself that I'll do all these things once the cast comes off.   and I'm at war with myself, part of me promising myself the moon, part of me trying to believe that I'll be lucky if I just ever get out of this boot. 

Tomorrow, tomorrow will be the entry where I gush about all the giddy feelings.   Tomorrow I'll remember how to sleep and sign our wills and do some laundry and eat breakfast with Light and dinner with delight (twice in one week) and think about grace and about learning to let go, I'll make lists and finish books, and clean the fridge and cross-stitch and find a good picture for the background of the new computer and maybe even commit to some stickers for it.    Tomorrow i'll brush cats, roast broccoli, look at cookbooks.  I'll sit down and try to infodump as much of the beginning of this week as I can recall.

Or maybe I'll just bing on some bad tv and hang out in bed in my underwear for as much of the day as I can manage.