All I want to do is run.
It’s been a long 3 weeks since my beautiful baby girl was born, 22 days to be exact. So I’m not able to run my frustration and anger away. But believe me, when I’m able to get out there to the park and let my feet hit the pavement that’s exactly what I will be doing. I know it will help me so much – time alone, time to think, time to exert some of this energy. Processing the hurt and releasing some of the pain.
Nothing sounds better then letting all my thoughts and feelings and loneliness drip out through each pore. Allowing my body to cry as my eyes have been, it’s seems they’re never out of tears. The pain in my chest with each deep breath, a constant stitch in my side, the ache in my thighs almost reaching the raw ache of my heart as I finally culminate my run.
I’m a glutton for punishment so this all sounds perfect to me. Giving me a sense of being alive. But also the feeling of pain much like the feeling of grief we must endure. For we are earthy humans and not yet heavenly angels.
I look forward to this private time with Gianna, with a God, and with nature. I look forward to the healing it will bring me. Speaking to them both, without saying a word. Letting them into my thoughts, letting them speak to me. Allowing me to comfort her, God to comfort me, and letting me find some peace and strength hidden in this loneliness, allowing me to quietly search for any sense hidden within this unnecessary madness. Though mostly peace and guidance to help the others, her father, her sisters and brother. To help guide them, to be their support, to teach them how to comfort and be there for each other. For Jesus himself grieved and responded to the grief and loss of those around him. This will allow me to show strength and help me feel in control again.
But until then, until I can run, I will write.