Broken Flowers

I cut metal with my bare hands today. A lock at the Stadium. Ok, it was with a lock cutter, but still it was me who did it. Me. Megha was less-than-impressed when I told her, but that's ok. I don't need her approval. I don't need anyone's approval.

I'm feeling fragile tonight. Delicate. The euphoria of this afternoon has worn off, and in it's place is sadness. Just a deep sadness. Simple things have been sending me over the edge today - a sad song on my playlist, an email from an old friend, a pretty flower. Little things have been making me cry tonight. I'm sad, but here's my secret: I really enjoy the vunerability that I feel. It's almost freeing to feel so breakable. I try to put up a strong front so often. Pretend that I'm superwoman with a heart of stone, but I'm letting all of this go now. I talked to my mentor/best friend Chuck today during my break at work. We talked for a good hour and that's when I started feeling this way. Thank you, Chuck, for telling me it's ok to be delicate. Thank you.