Maybe you woke at 2 a.m. or maybe you never made it to bed at all on the longest night of the year, you lit a candle and listened to Al Green and felt what you felt, and decided what you felt was good.

Wrapped in the patchwork blanket you pieced together from old sweaters and a thrift store flannel sheet the year your best friend moved to Layfayette and promised to stay in touch but they meant on Facebook and you had already had enough of high school in high school, it's okay to let it go. It's okay.

You made a list of everything you wanted and the list was full of ways to be in the world and none of it would  fit down the chimney, you had to let it in through the front door: so open it, open it. Open it.