My instinct is to run. I like to fall in a heap in a sock drawer, shut myself up and off, turn on some really great, sad music and get comfy in a good wallow [its annoying, I know].
The funny thing is, the things that have stripped me most today are people who have bolted. They disappear, keep secrets, and scheme [boo-hiss, world!]. And I am such a goof for wanting to do the same thing in reaction.
One of these days I'll figure out how to have reasonable expectations of people and situations and days like today won't be so shocking. Until then, I have to figure out a way to react better. No one likes a wallower.
The completely ridiculous part of my brain shrugs its shoulders, turns on Adele and says,
"You just gotta be stone cold. Don't care. Don't invest. Be breezy."The completely fluffy part of my brain bakes some cinnamon rolls, turns on The Judds and says,
"Love everything and everyone. Give, give, give."
The teeny weeny part of me that is semi-reasonable seems to think that there's got to be a very happy, easy place somewhere in the middle.
My heart is a very warm place. Sometimes it gets a little too toasty and people need to step out for some air. [as GP so perfectly articulated it].
My heart is also a gem. You're lucky if you get in there; I'm sorta stingy with it, believe it or not. Sometimes I make poor choices and let real clowns in on the warmth.
That is not allowed.
I think the happy middle place that I'm on the hunt for lies somewhere within allowing people who are worthy of my warmth to step out for a breather, and not allowing myself to be dumb about opening the door in the first place.
Even now [happily holed up in my sock drawer], I'm laughing at myself for ruminating on these age old conundrums as if life actually had a solution.