I won't lose this war.

The slow drift and beats of Frank Sinatra circle around me.
The pounding of the rain against my window eased me into
a sudden place of security.
It's times like these when I drift away, away into my own
little world.
Yet, as thoughts of wanting perfection grasp my mind, I lose control.
Knowing that perfection is just simply not possible, I find myself
drifting back to reality. The pounding of the rain gets louder.
The music that had once calmed me is throwing me into a rage.
I close my eyes and try to get ahold of myself.
I begin to push through the war stirring in my heart.
As I finally reach reality I can feel my strength returning.
My heart is no longer battling. Perfection has fled from my thoughts.
I'm letting go, letting go of what I wish I could have.
Instead, I'm taking ahold of what I do have.