God is in the details

It is my blessing and my curse, that I am no mystery to myself. I have learned to anticipate that I will choose badly and fail often, in most things. I am aware of my habits and patterns. I know myself inside and out. Sometimes, I wish I could say, "Oh my, I didn't realize." but sadly, that is rarely true. I usually realize.

When things fall apart, other people seem so surprised. They say, "How could this happen? How could this terrible thing happen to me?" It is my habit when things go to hell to simply reply, "Well, of course they did." because they usually do, eventually.

Still, defying everything I know, realizing just how deeply fucked up I actually am, I dig in and push forward anyway. I bring people in knowing they will leave...or I will. I adopt a pet knowing it will die or I will. The sun will set. The leaves will turn. The milk will go bad. The car will break down. The relationship, which was lonely and quiet, will end with a fizzle. 

…but just in case the sunrise is pink and the coffee is dark and rich and the pretty barista smiles at me across my latte, I think I'll get up and have another day. Because I’ve heard that god is in the details and my life is most definitely fed by a million tiny unremarkable details. Perhaps these ordinary moments are the ones to grad and hold, the ones whose buoyancy will keep me afloat later, when the leaves turn and the milk goes. And maybe, just maybe, if I’m very lucky, a pink sunrise and dark, rich cup of coffee and a pretty, smiling barista will be just enough.