Navigating Solutions and Darkness

So I'm sitting here with Blogger open, eyeing the stats on the last post and thinking about writing something, while also watching Set It Up on Netflix (thank you, limited attention span...) And I suddenly think about work and notice the time and there it goes again - that jolt in my stomach. After a panic attack that lasted a full day, there was bound to be a little left over, right? And I couldn't help it - I threw my head back  and yelped. Nothing scary, but I guess it sounded enough like a cat's growl of frustration. Because the next thing I know, Ventus is jumping from the dresser to my bed. I picked him up like he's a big, furry baby (which he is - my big furry baby), and I looked into his big yellow eyes, and just... The way he looks at me, there's nothing like it in the whole wide world. The way he's only too happy to snuggle into my hugs, the way he licks my face, the way he blinks... There can never be too many kisses if they are for mommy. The k

I remember... I remember the sun smiling down on the bends in the road, and the rain tickling our faces. We drove on towards a sweet uncertainty, knowing only that this has been the best afternoon, the best afternoon.  It started when I made a call. I fixed my teeth and fixed my hair. And somewhere behind the fatigue in my eyes danced a little girl, her irrepressible joy marking what would be the best afternoon, the best afternoon. The food hung heavy on my tongue, and rested gently in my belly. Our chatter spoke of people and places long lost to me. Of pain from far away, and above all, of home, of home.  Pride and joy took turns to exult. My skin no longer burned in the fires of consciousness. It was enough that I was enough and far more, more than enough. For on that day, I was the best afternoon, the best afternoon. We laughed and spoke of stranger things. I forgot how the city was afire around me. The flames spiked with the spitefulness of memory still reached out, and