Bubbles, Bubbles, Bubbles

It’s been a wonderful day.

There has been leisurely walks, coffee brewed without rushing, moments engrossed in a book, without a sense of guilt for having to be anywhere else or doing anything else. There has been laughter. Stories shared. Food enjoyed. Games played. There was even a second leisurely evening walk - admiring the Remarkables.

And then,

before you know it

It’s there.

The replaying of scenes. The re-imagining of conversations you wish you had had.

And like the bubbles that rose up in the glass earlier today, the anger bubbles up. But without the surface to burst on and disperse it, it begins to ping pong around gaining momentum. Building pressure.

Sometimes it seems she comes out of nowhere. What triggered her? What called her forward?

I use to either get absorbed in the bottle until it exploded or do my best to simply expel her via brute force.

But, now,

I try to get to know more about what she saw. What’s she’s trying to achieve.

And often, on nights like tonight, I learn nothing.

But she sees me. And I see her.

And slowly but surely I know she is getting a little bit more comfortable with me.