I know I have written before about never again wearing rose-colored glasses and now finding myself too often wearing gray-colored glasses. I have moments where I let light and laughter in and it feels so freeing, so good. Soon after those very moments I rebel against them fearing happiness, fearing that it might mean I am reaching for those rose-colored glasses again. That fear is my armor, my shield. Letting it down for moments here and there is one thing, but letting it go is something else all too scary. Rationally, I think I know that gray and rose are not the only choices. But, somehow my heart is having a hard time believing it to be true. I don’t want to wear any fucking glasses anymore. Sigh.