I sat on the floor of our bathroom, the shower turned on in full strength.
The steam from the hot water rose up and filled the air with mistiness and mystery.
But I like it – I’ve always loved steamy, hot baths, even though J thinks that it’s hot enough to burn.
I haven’t done that in a long while, just sitting there and letting the water fall onto my body.
It was oddly reassuring and calming, the water beating down my back and dripping off my hair.
It had been a long week, capped off with drama mamas.
And I was angry. Frustrated. Hurt. Disappointed.
So I sat there on the floor and closed my eyes.
I felt, rather than thought.
And I felt I had enough of this negativity.
I didn’t want to waste my life thinking about what others said, about the things I didn’t have and wanted, about the twists and turns.
I’ll just be.
I stood up, turned off the tap and walked out, leaving the unhappiness behind, flowing steadily down the drain.
As Sara Bareilles sings, And who cares if you disagree/You are not me/Who made you king of anything?
Yannisms 