Drafts of the girl - #17 Zinfandel on a Tuesday

Sitting alone in an empty room, sipping on Zinfandel Rose wine with subtle notes of strawberry, a question breezed through my hazy thoughts.

"Is it alright for me to sip alcohol on a Tuesday evening? With a large expanse of the week still in the hem?"

The answer is obvious to any sane human - it's not the ideal situation to be in.

But the real villian in soul or the crisis is not the alcohol. The warm liquid that burns the throat, soothes the racing heart, and slows down the breathing is more of a salve than a sin. 

The tangible reason is the mundane life of a 24-year old, who so naively thinks she has a control over her life.

People always said me, "You see the good in people". For a significant part of my life I figured it was a compliment. Now, not so. Having crossed terrains and mountains, I’ve unfortunately stumbled upon souls not so pure—in neither heart nor word.

But, fortunately, I also stumbled upon genuine mortals—those rare, tender ones who would cross oceans and mountains to wipe my sadness away. Who would travel miles upon sensing the melancholy in my voice, only to show up at my doorstep with flowers and a warm embrace.

However, I can't help but hear the devil in me say, "For what shall you deserve such genuine love?". I do not know the answer to that.

Despite the overwhelming love, there's this shadow of longing I can not manage to quench. I've read Ikigai a couple years back, and still couldn't figure the reason to my fulfillment.

I sure am not sad by any means. I manifested and carefully made choices to be in the place I am right now. I am happy. But, if I deny the feelings of emptiness and longing in my heart, I sure would be a fool.

What is it I am searching for? I figure it's company. Not from a friend. But someone who could be a friend, and also a home to come back to.

To bicker, to tease, to fight, to smile and cry with while chopping onions. 

Nothing grand or cinematic—just a semblance of something soft and real.

It’s a large desire, perhaps too large—but the heart wants what it wants.

Also, there’s one sentence I can’t seem to shake from the mind’s archive:

"People speak and act their intellect"

It's a interesting perspective. So, the next time you find yourself taking offense from someone's words. It would be wise to remember the above saying. 

Their words may not be about you at all. They may only be a reflection of their own limits.

And if you, somehow, manage to survive weekdays without a grimace on your face—I pay my tributes. 

Cause I love my job, and yet succumb to the weariness from time to time. 

With a glass half full of sweet wine and a heart still searching for a sweet home,
— Athena