Bittersweetener in my coffee, please!
Tonight was amazing. Not a long and smooth amazing-curve, but a very rugged lightning-bolt-line amazing curve. Strangely vulnerable and teary at the beginning at the night, turned to confident, belting songs teary, turned to torn-between-family and friends heart struggle.
Maybe I should've stayed for the karaoke, but I was bound to pursue the ifs.
So it's one thirty and I'm home alone with my silence and the weight behind my eyes. My lips are still curved up into a smile but my eyes seem to want to release something. Tears, it feels like. Or maybe it's dozens of little tiny pink crystal shards - the ones that've been building up this last week. This last day. This last few hours.
The words I sang so long ago are finally becoming true. So true, in fact, that there is tangible proof left on me in the form of a blister on my strumming thumb. Picks are for dicks.
Just kidding, it's a personal preference.
Disappointed, yes. But oh well. My family's home now. I had a good night, and I'll cry if I want to.
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