August 17, 2021

I Forgot What it Felt like to Feel Okay.


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I’m waking up again.

The birds are chirping softly, and the smell of fresh coffee makes me smile.

Someone said hi to me today, and I beamed at them at the grocery store.

I forgot what it felt like to feel okay.

It’s a nice feeling. There’s a wholeness to my heart and color to my cheeks.

Someone’s text today made my heart flutter.

It feels nice to be awake.

That hole was dark and lonely.

I may fall back in, but I really hope not.

It’s okay, though, if I do.

I can survive in it.

Last time I was there, I stayed two years and five months.

The place has all my essentials—a diary, black mascara for ink, and a toilet seat to rest my hot cheeks on.

I’m not there, though, today.

Today the sun is shining and each message from a beautiful someone warms my heart.

I forgot what it feels like to dance in my socks on the floor.

I forgot what it feels like to flirt.

I’ve forgotten a lot of things, but they are coming back to me.

I bought some flowers today and replaced the dead ones in my vase. I don’t know how long they’ve been dead, but they definitely needed replacing.

I went to the grocery store too.

I even called a friend. I don’t think she recognized my cheeriness.

I don’t think I recognized it either.

I hope this feeling stays.

If not, at least I have my essentials in the hole.

I think, though, that I’m going to stay here awhile.

I forgot how much I liked sunflowers.

I like them very much.

Something is changing in me.

I’m getting older and my heart is calming.

There’s a hop to my step again, and I like it.

I don’t know how to stay here, but I’m going to cover the hole with a piece of cardboard.

I know it’s temporary, but at least I can stay out for a while.

Maybe I’ll forget it’s there.

Maybe I won’t.

No matter where I live, I’ll always have writing to keep my heart beating.

I just hope I take a break from writing in mascara.


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