Bookmark #908

In the morning, I sat on the couch and stared at nothing, taking in the whistles of the birdsong from outside. It was quiet and bright, and I began to think of where I was three or four years ago, how lost, how uncomfortable, how all parts of me were utterly out of synch. If you asked me to write you a prescription for calming the waters, I would have nothing to write on it, and yet, I have written everything I can about it all in these breadcrumbs I drop every day. Regardless of how much you know someone, all you do is drop crumbs in conversations. A friend, before they fully bare their heart in front of you on a well-set table spread with toast and juice and pancakes, will often just say a bit here and a bit there. It is usually nothing specific or anything explicit, but most of what they tell you when they do will have already been said. Perhaps when we say, “You should have told me sooner,” all we mean is, “I am sorry.”

Leaving that morbid tangent of thought aside on this beautiful morning and leaving it in the past where it belongs, I shall now come back to this moment. I do not know what brought about this ever-present lightness in my heart, that most things happen and blow over, that I find this absurd resilience in me. Now, it is natural to have your soul shaken off here and there. Things happen, and not all specks of dust settle equally quickly, but it does settle, and sometimes, it takes a week and, often, a day or two. And then, I find myself on the couch with a cup of coffee in my hands, ready and primed to start the day. I wonder if everyone becomes this steadfast, this immovable as they grow older, and to think of myself as something out of the ordinary is a mistake I dare not commit, so I will keep this note short and find a few minutes to sit quietly as the music continues to play and the sun continues to dance minute by minute, taking more and more of this hall under itself. I believe all the certainty I wanted a few years ago, I have given myself. That much, I am sure of.

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