Slipping: counting, measuring, eyeballing.
Saying no, knowing I need to say yes. A resounding yes. A yes filled with all of the “no’s”.
Saying yes in all of the wrong moments. To ed. To fear. To comfort.
Being strict. Beginning to restrict. Holding out. Holding on.
Waking up on the right side of the bed. Thinking today will be the day. Proving myself wrong, day after day.
Reaching out. Speaking up. Accepting the help when it’s the hardest.
No pain, no gain. The struggle is real.
Tripping. Skinned knees and raw, sandy hands. Firm ground. Sometimes it’s not what’s physical that hurts the most.
Resting. Taking the time. Listening. Feeling. Letting it all go. Slipping through my hands like the sand that once stung them. Slipping.