Part Eight.

The sun shines brightly as I walk out the door of my workplace. The street in front of me curves upward, obstructing the view onward. I take a right turn instead and proceed down an oppositely curved hill.

These days I find myself wandering down paths I've been before. Doing things I've done before. Feeling things I've felt before. Habits that I have a desire to break, but for one reason or another cannot — "I don't know any other way," I reason. "I need to do this." My avoidance has many identities, but I somehow manage to see through them all. I suppose when you spend enough time with something, you develop a deeper understanding of the internal components that keep it going.

I cross the parking lot, leave the sidewalk, and step onto the trail that leads home. The sun shines through the trees, illuminating the edges of the leaves.

So... should I be happy that I can see through my own lies now? Or should I be angry that I needed so much time to do so? That I needed to bear a burden just so I can understand what it's like to live without one? Even at this moment, I still cannot comprehend living without this pit I call a home. Perhaps one day soon I will.

I stop at the intersection, even though the lights are still green. I don't like to take chances and possibly make a fool out of myself. Irony if I've ever heard it.

I've caught brilliant white-light moments of happiness and would like that to continue... but maybe what makes it so great is knowing it won't last. After all, the grass can't grow without a little rain. On the other hand, too much will destroy it. So where is the happy medium? Where can I find the lush green that I so desire?

A long stretch of sidewalk, a left turn, and another intersection. The clouds have come to join the sun more closely, partially covering the sphere and forcing the light to push through the cotton.

Perhaps it's about compromise. Perhaps it's about letting things go and not caring. Perhaps it's about something I haven't discovered yet. Or perhaps I've been right all along and I just need to keep waiting.

Perhaps the lack of emotion is what makes it so emotional.