I cried through most of my next therapy appointment. That isn’t as bad as it sounds. They were basically tears of relief. Even though Ziggy and I hadn’t really resolved anything, somehow, my heart still felt better about everything. Some kind of weight had been lifted. Or something.
It’s my inability to make a good explanation of what I felt–or why–that leads to those obscure songs with lots of oblique references to poetic visuals. The ones that, when you hear them on the radio in your car, that one time you finally figure out the words make you say, what the hell is this song about?