Hope. A soft glimmering light burning in some seldom traveled corner of my mind. A whiff of ease, of rest.

2018 has been a clusterfuck of a year, for me and many others. You’re not alone. My friends and family have all went through hard times as well, and I’ve been all over the place.

I fell in love again. I faced many of my fears. My heart was broken, and the bright friendship slowly shriveled into a fossil, and the me it sustained along with it.

My dad had heart surgery. Work taxed me beyond comprehension and tore me away from the things I value most. Everything around me began to rot. My piano still sits beneath several layers of dust. My cat Zoe started meowing funny (update, she’s doing fine. Antibiotics and antihistamines seemed to clear it up).

My body, my mind… Messes everywhere.

I deleted screenshots of our convos today. The time she said she loved me, the inside jokes and rare compliment. Of course I made it dramatic. My finger hovered above the screen as I soaked up the moment. Soaking makes makes life meaningful. I would have already been dead for decades if I didn’t soak.

Once my phone was purged of all memories, I took a breath. The first breath. And it became clear to me that I’d allowed myself to be led astray from my values.

I value creativity, kindness, space, and love. Love most of all. These last two years were so cataclysmic to me that life before them seems like a dream. It was a rebirth, every bit as messy and tumultuous as actual birth.

And now my days at Walmart draw to a close, and I ready myself for winter. There are always seeds beneath the snow. Water all around.

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