I'm going to go drown myself in chocolate.

You stop. But just for now. You promise yourself that you can continue on tomorrow. You say, "Not too long, my darling" to convince yourself not to grasp onto everything with a vise-like grip. So you let go. You breathe. You smile. You don't mind that it's temporarily gone, because soon it will be back. You'll be able to pick up your paintbrush, your pen, your bridle. You'll be able to return in not too long.

But then it slips from your fingers.

And you start to wonder why. Why you once felt so assured. Why it has been taken away. Why to every situation.

Even more, you wonder if you had any such grip on it in the first place.


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