This night

We mustn't let our passions die young. I think failures delude us into thinking that those things our hearts love may not be worth an effort, the continuance of pursuit. We cannot be more wrong. Let your heart cry when you experience defeat. But also let it heal. And let it continue to do the work of showing you what it beats for.

Right now the recliner is extended to its full capacity. My dog and I squeeze in it together. He occasional grumbles at a noise. I tap his fluffy little butt and tell him, "No."

It is 42 degrees outside. Fall.

One lamp is turned on in our little apartment.

The dryer runs with a load of bleached whites.

I've worked on this course presentation for hours and hours. I am ready for Matthew to come home now. The dog cannot hold a conversation with me.

Yet,

The dryer runs, the lamp shines, I type.

It is a peaceful night here. It's a night that I do not miss anyone or any memory too much, do not need to frustrate myself over any petty complaint or exhaust any thoughts over the day's events. It's a night that I feel so lucky just to sit and experience these small pleasures of quiet, peace, and contentment. It does not always happen, but tonight I recognize these gifts.

The dog falls asleep. I hear the neighbor's birds squawk.

I wish I could tell you every detail to bring you along with me.