Following Jose into the bedroom, my laptop is sitting there on the bed, opened to email. Lately, due to overwhelm, I've been having him manage it for me.
The soft blue glow casts small shadows in the room.
Sitting on the bed, I lean in to read the opened email.
“You really created something special, and I hope you know that.”
The warmth on his face makes me all fuzzy inside, but I don't tell him this. Instead I just nod and begin reading the opened email.
“It may seem silly, my gratitude for your thoughtfulness, but it is always more than paint to me. You deserve all the success and praise you have earned it. You are beautiful soul, generous, thoughtful, hysterical, honest, beautifully made inside and out. Remember to show yourself the same grace you give so natural to so many. Be kind to you.”
Behind this email, are another few that sound eerily the same, although I don't doubt their validity. By the third email, the kindness has become overwhelming. When the words become blurry it's then that I notice the wetness on my cheeks.
Jose chuckles slightly.
“Sorry,” he murmers. “I just thought you should see it.”
“No. Thank you. I think I really needed to see it, right now.” I say wiping at my tears.
As the waves fill my ears and I catch sight of myself in the mirror, it feels utterly ridiculous. Life is all but perfect. Every dream I've ever had has come true and somehow, I'm chronically miserable.
Maybe life really is pointless. Why am I still here?
