Flicker.

a song to set the scene // dear, dolores by illumining, dominique charpentier

The night had been going so well.

My family and I had just enjoyed a scrumptious dinner of spaghetti carbonara. Bringing out the Veuve, we toasted to a record breaking weekend at work and then watched Sing 2 together.

*Shocker* my dad even stayed up for the whole movie.

Going home with my gem, I almost felt high. It had truly been such a great night.

But then, as I started getting undressed to take a shower, I slowly felt that high wearing off.

It was as though this moment of undress, this one instant of being present and alone with my thoughts suddenly invited all of my worries and fears to come forth.

Reality was coming back to me; and with it, exhaustion.

With exhaustion came anxiety, pouncing through the door like Tigger.

Dread followed close behind, dragging heaviness and a sense of foreboding.

It was, simply put, about work.

Which, as of late, has been a significant stress.

Following closely to the cycle of last year, as August approaches, so do the same problems.

Unable to control what’s about to happen, and feeling overwhelmed and exhausted with serving the public day after day, I feel my body’s mental and physical health starting to wan.

Standing on thin ice, I’m losing all ability to keep things together. And with exhaustion, anxiety, dread, and heaviness all crowded in the same living room, it’s no wonder I feel as though I’m suffocating.

Bawling these ever present worries to my gem, I cried into my knees for what felt like hours.

He tried to comfort me. He kept saying things like It’ll be okay, and We’ll figure this out together but I felt as though he couldn’t really hear me, couldn’t understand what I was going through.

All logical and problem solving abilities were lost to the wind at this point. Nothing he said was going to help.

So he stopped saying anything.

And he started doing something.

Crying continuously, I sat there and sobbed as he moved about the house.

All of a sudden, he was lifting me up off the floor, and helping me to his room.

Apparently, it wasn’t words I needed, but action.

For my exhausted body: he made up a bed, just for me.

For my anxious mind: my breathe playlist, playing softly in the background.

For the dread overstaying its welcome: he had lit a candle, to show dread the way out.

For the heaviness and this sense of foreboding: my gem wrapped his arms tightly around me, reminding me that I wasn’t truly alone, that everything was going to be okay.

He had done all of this: for me.

My heart exploded with love.

As my gem continued whispering encouragements and affirmations in my ear, my tears of sorrow turned into tears of gratitude and joy.

Like an earthquake, love shook the house and emptied it of exhaustion, anxiety, dread, and heaviness.

I was suddenly radiant, filled with warmth by this flicker of hope.

Falling asleep in the safety of his arms, and love now coursing through my heart, the candle’s flame was the last thing my weary eyes saw.

Reminding me, each flicker, that there was, indeed, hope.