There's a thing that I like to call the Black. It's a certain set of moods that settle over me through the day, can come out of nowhere and go away just as quickly. The Black sucks away my energy, motivation to get off my ass and do something, Anything just to have some feedback from other people. The Black is the form of my depression when it gangs up with my anxieties and they plan a seige of my reality. Perhaps I will not be behind this cloud for too many days this week. When those depression commercials starting coming out the other year, I turned to my Boy and said there- that's how I feel. I'm a sad little cream puff. The Black takes the little joys of life and squeezes them dry so that I can only remember the shadow of what I used to find pleasant.
I wear the emeralds that my Boy has given me. One ring he married me with. One band that he gave to celebrate our first homecoming. One band that he gave me to tell me that he loves me. I want to sit in the sunlight and shine light through these rings to trap the sparkle deep down inside. So that when the Black comes next time I'll have a light to guide me through the darkness.
Love can cure all ills, as can faith. As can hope. Hasn't failed us yet.