Every night, when it comes time to finally go to bed, once I lay down my back spasms. It arcs. Every muscle uncoils in an order; progressively working their way down to my lower back. It is as if every stress of the day is exiting me through my back.
Yet, tonight, as I listen to the sirens coming in through my window and watch the street lamps play on my ceiling, I feel different. As my back unknots itself, it is not stress leaving my body—it is my body transforming. I am becoming a new self. A self capable of handling the challenge that is sure to come. I am shedding my former restraints—inhibitions—and becoming enough.
Newly born, I marvel at my weightlessness, at my cleanliness. I smile, and then frown because I know I have chosen a most grisly task. It is sad that I became this free only to rush to shiny, new shackles. My only hope is that they become a home. Please, open your arms to me.
I meant to write that Thursday Night/Friday Morning.