The trick is to make it to morning, to set it up so that I slide into sleep, carried through the night, wake up rested, in a head and heart space that allows for possibility.
Because all sorts of things might happen today. I might finish the query letter. The energy may shift inside of me enough so that I can climb back into the novel, make some changes. I may get calls for holistic work, make money to deal with the bills that are beginning to clamor and gnash their tiny little interest-bearing teeth. Jacinta may chill out even more, relax into the whole Me and Her thing, which comes complete with 66 daily check-ins to make sure that she's still breathing. Maybe I'll feel like exercising. Or going for a walk on the beach.
Because it isn't just about The Hoon leaving. It's so much deeper than that. The Hoon was just the last buffer of love between It and me. And so now I face It. And It is always lighter to deal with in the cool, pale yellow light of morning.