I just finished reading The Time Traveler's Wife. It was so...beautiful. In the way that sadness can be beautiful. Like Eva Moves the Furniture. So heavy and complex. So much love and so much loss and...so much sadness. I think I should've taken more time to read it. Not because I feel like I rushed through it and couldn't understand/appreciate it. Just because, when I read things like that, I need to process them bit by bit. Now it feels like an awkward weight dragging my head down to my heart. That doesn't make any sense. Anyway, the sadness will probably linger for a few days. It's coming at a bad time, too.
My mini-vacation was so relaxing and peaceful. I spent almost the entire 5 days at home, creating a cozy space in my room. Decluttering. Sorting. And we had a couple of lovely, warm, spring-y days. It was all very therapeutic. And then I went back to my job and the weather got crappy again and I've been feeling very insecure and I'm just so frustrated with everything. This is not a good time to be burdened with the heavy sadness of an emotional book.
I just need to cry it out. I've cried twice today already. I'm sure more tears are on the way. I'm not a cry baby or an emotional wreck, but I think most girls would agree when I say that it's such a release to cry. So much more peaceful than yelling. It's got a lovely way of just washing things away. Crying is so final.
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