Anxiety sometimes comes in a loud panic. Sometimes, though, it appears in silent but painful waves rippling through the stomach. Sometimes, you want to scream. But in this kind of anxiety, you are out of words. You just want to stare into space and think of the enormity of the cause that set these waves in motion.
You want to scream but you can’t. You just can’t. And you just want to curl into a ball for the rest of the day but stuff begs to be done. The sheer panic crawls at the back of my neck as surely as perspiration flows in this summer heat.
How can something so beautiful have such a violent phase in it? It eludes me. But I grit my teeth through it in the certainty that after this nervous phase, everything is going to be worth it.