Circles
W ords will never be able to bear the weight of what I wanted to say. My thoughts were too heavy and any words I wrote crumbled beneath them, not able to successfully carry what I wanted to communicate. I decided the simplest solution was to stop trying. I clicked my pen shut and put my diary in its safe place behind the stack of novels on my nightstand shelf. I finally had a stretch of weeks with no plans, a luxury I had not had since starting college three years ago, but all that meant was I was forced to slow down enough to stop ignoring my emotions. Finally, I got up and left my bedroom to go downstairs for a lunch. My dad was in the kitchen, leaning against the white countertops and holding his usual lunchtime mug of coffee. Saturday's felt thicker and slower than the maple syrup I had put on toaster waffles that morning. My dad seemed to feel the same sensation, like walking through a pool of ankle-deep water. Not a barrier strong enough to stop you from walking...