It's beautiful

Updated: Aug 26, 2020

Falling asleep to the bugs sing and waking up to the birds chirp.

The windows are cracked, and I open my eyes to a new white comforter wrapped around me.

My room is full of new summer outfits, and boxes of goods for my future apartment.

I hear my mom laughing in the living room.

There are flowers in a vase from my brother's wedding on my dresser.

It's beautiful.

But it's even more beautiful because of the sense of freedom I'm waking up to again.

After two months of working hard hours and being isolated, I'm able to see my friends again. I'm able to hug my brothers again. I'm able to pay off the last of my debt and have a timeline for moving into my own place. I'm able to feel free.

With that freedom, I'm starting to want again. I'm starting to dream again. Write again. Journal again. Feel grounded again.

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Then I'm back.

A cool breeze brushes my face on my morning run. Then I'm back in Tenessee. Going on my morning run near our apartment. I feel the same cool breeze. Feel the same emotions. Depression. Pressure. And h

It's too good to be true.

To have these moments. Leave a self-defense class. More and more confident each week. Wearing my nice yoga pants. Drive to my mom's to drop off fresh pears from the farmer's market. We rest. On rockin

How do I know

That I'm me? I feel creative I want to write Or cook Or make jokes Or learn I'm not exhausted, obsessive, or anxious That's how I know.