Tenderness

"Oh honey
Oh honey
It's just a wave
It's just a wave and I know
That when it comes
I just hold on
I just hold on"

 - Emoji Of A Wave, by John Mayer

 I press a hand to my chest to center myself, feeling the texture of the forest green sweater I'm wearing. When I put it on that morning I was tired and chilly. I’d had unpleasant dreams that night in which I was being chased, making for restless sleep. Getting out of bed was challenging. I’d slept in as long as I could, then did a quick workout. I had wanted to run, but my right knee was complaining. I’d read once that pain is the body’s way of saying something is wrong, or in other words, pay attention. Don’t ignore it. 

That morning I was tired yet wishing I could have gone for a run. I was annoyed at my knee, and at the ironic fact that I was tired from mentally sprinting in my dreams. I was tired and wanting more sleep, or if I couldn’t have sleep then at least coffee, yet hours later, as I press a hand to my chest, I feel myself soothed by the thought of seeing my boyfriend that evening. I imagine the warmth of his blue eyes as he looks into my brown ones. I imagine being pulled into his strong arms and feeling the overall mix of manliness, burliness, and deep tenderness which I had grown to love. 

The hand against my heart mimics this tenderness. When someone else is caring towards you, it makes you want to be more caring of yourself. So, I told myself, tenderly, that it was okay to miss a few runs because of my knee. It’s okay if I let myself sleep in. It’s okay if I both know my worth and doubt it at different moments, as long as I know it at my core and keep coming back to that innate truth. Lovingly, to center myself, I press a hand to my heart. I press a hand to my heart.