THERE IS A WORD FOR THIS FEELING

…i just don’t know what it is. yet. these last two weeks have literallllly dragged on, i’ve grown quite impatient even with constantly reminding myself that these next 50 or so days are my last ones to be like this. busting wide open with unfulfilled time. i can’t stop feeling like the weather in haslet, it’s 28 degrees one morning and 84 degrees the next afternoon. a symbol of impulsiveness, change not to be processed just sat on like an uncomfortable couch. everything–it all goes and goes and goes away within the week and it barely makes any sense. all there is to do is write and walk and think about the future, i find it hard to reimagine myself in the past lately, not that i would like to reimagine myself in the past anyway. my memories feel so foreign to me… my mind remembers but because there is so much new, so much i wished for: to not be stuck there in the past, here i am now just catapulting myself into the future. one day at a time. i don’t really talk to anyone much, just kinda hanging out with myself, my family and thoughts. it feels really nice but it also kind of feels like i live on a deserted island where i wake up and suddenly the day is done, i am falling back to sleep. heartburn, restless leg syndrome and braxton hicks contractions are the pals that keep me company at 4 in the morning now. i had a moment this morning where i woke up from all of that PLUS a full and irritated bladder and i couldn’t fall back to sleep so i randomly watched this film about whalers and moby dick… i can’t imagine what a weird life it must have been back in 1820… more than 200 years ago. i found myself dozing off to sleep imagining what it might be like being pregnant back then and suddenly i found myself feeling more gratitude and grace for all of the privilege and support i have found myself surrounded by all my life.

mental preparation is slow and steady and tedious. physically i can’t imagine being prepared enough, all i do is fantasize and freak about what this big day that’s coming so soon has in store for us. i feel like a flower with all of her petals falling off slowly, but then suddenly getting ready too quickly to grow back, stronger and sturdier. i feel like my skin is shedding and as always, i am the snake in the sun with my belly up. there’s dust everywhere and in my eyes while i am just watching and waiting for my new skin to reveal itself to me. i found this sweet and banged up canvas in my closet recently, it must be 5 or 6 years old, blank just sitting there to remain blank forever until i decided to do something with it. i painted and colored and sharpie’d and maybe i’ll sew something over it, but for now, here it is. all the color i can manage here in the southwest…. wish me luck to whoever’s reading this: i am trying to let this place grow on me, i am trying to settle into the uncomfortable boredom of suburbia. lots of looking out the window and brown wooden fences, across the way and into someone else’s yard. it’s not a lot of anything really. all the windows are the same. 

luv + light,

kaylah