I spent the last couple days laying in the sun with great people. I drank until I couldn’t see straight, I laughed until I could barely breathe. I sat on the patio and watched the storm roll in over the city until the steam from my coffee was not visible anymore. I would say that summer is my favorite season, but I don’t think I have one. I have favorite feelings. One of which is using the grass as my pillow and waking up to the sweet buzz that fills the air right before the world wakes up and everything holds it’s breath. It’s been a year now, a year since I thought my life completely crashed before my eyes. For the first time in a while I thought about you. I thought about where I would be ten years from now and if we would meet again in some old coffee house or a random place. I would tell you about my job at the hospital and you would tell me about your trips you’ve taken and the music you have played. You with your charming smile and me and my fearless dreams. I have said time and time again that I was over you, swearing up and down that I was actually. Those were the steps. It wasn’t until I thought about the lessons, the hurt, the pain, the adventure that you brought along with you that I am able to thank you. That, above all else, is closure. Life is about the small things like sticking your toes in the sand or the teary-eyed goodbyes. There will be plenty of days for leaving but just as many for coming. There will be days spent underneath covers, praying and wishing to disappear and then there will be days to crawl tooth and nail out of hell to try again. Days for wondering where you belong and days to remember all the places you’ve already been accepted. Days you want to erase, and some for memories to be created. In the midst of all these moments, I’m finally living. I get those bursts of happiness where you’ll be running and before you know it, without even knowing it, you will begin to skip. I’ll sing in the shower, I’ll smile for no reason at all. I don’t know. And for the first time in my life, I think that’s okay.
