When I was younger, I used to believe in possibilities and happy places. I wanted to grow up faster to experience life all at once. And then suddenly, I grew up and I lost faith in things like magic. I’ve felt numb on days – this general lack of emotion was completely alien to me – I couldn’t even cry when I felt like dying – when I lost loved ones to death or to life – I just stood there, feeling nothing, watching as life spun around me like a whirlpool in slow motion.
But there are days, when I step outside and I’m warm in the sun and there are nights, when I sneak up to the roof and watch the stars shine while listening to Chet Baker, and for a brief moment, I feel like I’m back to my self again – the one I seem to have wandered away from.
Dark days are unavoidable but I know I’ll come back home to myself, even if it’s for just a little while – I will.