Bicycling

It seems to be some sort of miracle cure for me: the high-intensity bike ride.
Last night, I felt like hell. The darkness wrapped around me and was pulling me back. I couldn't get Sjors out of my mind. I couldn't stop the memory of what it was to be with him. What it was to lose him. What it was to know that he had betrayed us. I couldn't stop myself feeling the loss.
So I got on the bicycle today. 15 miles into it, I was only concentrating on the ride. By mile 40, I was practically brain dead. And feeling better. Things feel less ugly after I ride.

I had dinner with a friend. Then I stopped by the hospital for a few hours.
"P" was with his 2-year-old-son, and the little boy seemed comforted to have his daddy there. Crystal came with the older boy who flung himself into my arms when he saw me, rested his head on my chest, and wrapped his legs around my hips. I cradled him for a long time because the little ball of energy seemed completely content to let me hold him.

I was glad that I didn't drag any of my darkness into the hospital with me. That little family needs all of the good energy it can get.