I need three weeks a month of passion and laughter. One week for recuperation and me-time. And when I say I need passion three weeks a month, I mean passion for the good stuff; sunshine, clean air, hot raw love, and creativity. I want to wake up to the beating of my heart and the excitement for what is to come.
These days of foggy clouds hanging over my head both outside and within are far too muddled to be enjoyed. I want some other voice to chide me out of bed, rather than the one that tells me to stay glued to my sheets beyond the time of rising.
I want to look forward to seeing my lover instead of with holding myself during break outs, hoping to meet at a time better to my liking; closer to perfection. I don’t want my vices of social lubrication to overcome the once more energetic and pure parts of myself. To no longer have them taint my day with their distractions.
I want my full potential back, the part of me that isn’t listless and lost. The inside motivator sat dormant now for days. I want to see my purpose.
Three weeks of passion and laughter. One more somber week to myself. Days full of natural highs and less low lows. The better parts of me aching to escape. The parts some of us do not know.