Joy Sits For a Season And Helps Me Practice My Prayers

Joy waltzes into my room and finds me curled up in bed, turned away from her with Sadness’ legs wrapped around my waist and fingers entwined with mine. She sighs, grabs me by my shoulders and tells me to stand. I shun her and she sits at the edge of my bed watching me pick my poison.

Sadness inches closer, presses her chest against mine, winds her elbow around my neck suffocating me. I relax into her embrace and close my eyes, she’s so familiar.

I wake, breathless and humid trying to recollect the events of the past hour or two or fifty. My neck is sore and bones ache. There’s no one here anymore.

I inhale and wish for Joy, but she does not come. I cry and pray “please, come joy, I’m ready”. She knocks on the door and gives me a warm smile. She’s so glad I called.

Joy sits with me as I eat my breakfast, brushes my hair after a bath, warms me when I’m cold, laughs when I joke, dances when I play music. When she’s around I forget how lonely I really feel. How lovely it is to be in her presence.

Until, all at once I accidentally allow my mind to wander, my thoughts string together and molds itself into fact. Then the room is quiet all over again and I feel a familiar hand brush against my cheek to wipe a loose tear. I close my eyes and welcome her embrace.