Sometimes I want to jog, but I hate running. To feel that cleansing of inhaling and exhaling fresh air while feeling that air brushing past my body as my feet pound rhythmically against pavement. But I hate running.
Sometimes I want to sing when my cords are exhausted and sore. I hear a melody in my head that moves me or long to imitate the talents coming thru my stereo, but my throat is scratchy and sore, and simple words take effort, and the music just won’t or can’t or shouldn’t, at the time, come.
Sometimes I want to say “I love you”, but I’m afraid. Afraid. Instead, I say “I like you”. There are those moments when there’s no doubt in my mind that I do love, and there are moments when I surely feel love reciprocated. So I want to say those three words. I say ‘I like you’ instead.
Sometimes I want to dance, but I get embarrassed. My lack of rhythm sometimes, my rounder body, my lack of flexibility and creativity and confidence on the dance floor often times stops me. But sometimes I just want to dance.
Sometimes I want to cry, but the tears won’t come. It’s a good way to release what ails. To let out hurt and pain. To purge. It can be beautiful too. It’s a beautiful way to let happiness flow. To allow joy so immense spring forth from the windows of the soul. Sometimes I want to cry, but the tears won’t come.
Sometimes I want to feel. But my partner beside me lies still. Asleep. I’ll leave this for your imagination to fill.
Sometimes I want to be happy. Happiness is a choice, but a hard one at times. Often my worrisome thoughts play in loop, holding the dark clouds over my head as I try desperately to part them and allow the sun to shine through. The clouds don’t always part though.
Sometimes I want to do more. To exhaust the hidden talents I know I possess. To share and grow and do things with these gifts I have, but an outlet I have not. I know not where to begin. I need … I want to do more.
“Sometimes” are like a “maybe” and a “should” and an “I wish”. The good thing about them all is that they can be a catalyst for progress. So I will write, even when I have nothing profound to say. I will start a slow jog, moving thru that feeling of my chest exploding. I will rest my voice when needed and enjoy it when I can. I will speak love. I will dance more. I’ll let my spirit cry in pain and in joy whenever my eyes won’t cooperate. I will feel my love whenever moved. I will thrive in happiness. And I will turn my “sometimes” into successes…