There’s something about the hard days.
Somehow, hope never fails. I might refuse it and ignore it, but somewhere -even when I seek solitude and try to find the loneliest place – someone appears and asks “are you OK?”
One time I was a second from breaking down crying, carrying mine and Baby J’s food -while pushing her stroller- in a mall, having a really bad day, and a lady left her turn in line to carry our tray to a table.
That has happened three times.
I would be internally crying because I seldom have help or someone to do things with -I can count with the fingers of my hand the times manfriend has helped me-, and someone comes up to tell me it’s OK, they’ll give me a hand.
It’s a bad day today and I don’t know if it’s going to work out our if it’s going to be OK, but I can feel in the colors of the sunset, the love shining down on me.
And I refuse to ignore it.