Process

[There are nights when you just let the sadness wash over you, when you feel it coming on and you do nothing but recognize it for what it is. You greet it. You say hello. You don't fight. You don't rebel. You let it come. Sometimes it's as if an old friend has come to visit. In the past you might have invited it in, told it to a pull up a seat and poured it a drink. You don't do that now. You just acknowledge it's presence. You feel the memories and stain of years as they cascade through you, lifting you up and then pressing down on you with the weight of ephemeral darkness.]