I don’t mean to be selfish. I find it so funny to even be writing this. I suppose that somewhere in between time and space we all arrive to this point and realize the obvious and accept it. But, it’s different this time. It finally is. Breathing has become harder, presumably, yet I have found the good in suffocating a little bit. And not in a malicious kind of way, but in a way that makes the heavy moments worth it, tolerable even.
“The lows are so extreme that the good seems fucking cheap.”
(Yes, thank you, Jenny. We know. I know.)
And so I’m beginning to swim in the soup and every fucking cliché line is jumping out and splashing me. The present is becoming more of a factor and I feel as if I’m falling in love all over again with the thought of it all. I’m seeping freedom and clarity that the ability to experience it all is sometimes too much to endure. But I fight. I jump out and splash right back.
I’m utterly ecstatic at the chance to live. I need to stop hiding.