I’m not sure where I heard these words but they ring true: “growing up is more than resignation to the normal things as inevitable.”
“I waited, as if the sea could make my decision for me.” — Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar
Certain roads one took emotionally also appeared on the map of the heart as traveling away from the center, and ultimately leading to exile. — Anaïs…
For most of Friday, that eerie feeling Hemingway describes began to spread. The flu over came me early in the morning, and little by little my body became weaker until finally I couldn’t get out of bed. It hurt to walk or to move around.
For most of last week my body was visited by strange ailments, some of physical lengths and others marked by emotional queries. They distorted the time of day. I was the girl with pins in her stomach.