This cold morning breeze greets my face with a light kiss, its lips brushing softly against my cheek. I raise my head up to the sky, eyes closed, smiling, filling my lungs with delicious, fresh air.
I feel like I could burst out of my skin right now.
One by one, the raindrops fall. I open my eyes and watch as the clouds weep under pressure, and I dance. And I marvel at the realization that there's nothing wrong with not being okay sometimes. There's nothing wrong in speaking your mind. There's nothing wrong in dancing, not when you can, not when it's raining.
I am finally starting to believe, little by little, that I can truly be happy. That happiness is a state of mind, and that once you intend to be happy and follow the trail that leads to it, then you can, and you will be happy. I see now the things I used to refuse to see because I was overcome by guilt, so wrapped up in my pain that anything outside it, I considered unreachable.
I am starting to see, and I am starting to feel. I want to be happy.
I take a step forward, walking in tiptoes so as not to disturb the weeds as they whisper to each other their deepest, most intimate secrets, or maybe the gossip of the day. I am standing at the edge of a cliff, and I can see endless rolls of greens, hills after hills of memories, wildflowers blooming with delight. Below, the ocean awaits. The waves crash against the rocks, each sound an invitation for me to let go and be free.
I nod yes. They crash louder now into the boulders, cheering for me. Without fear, I take one step and feel no ground. Everything slows down as I jump into the unknown. There is an inexplicable feeling in my stomach, one I know so well from falling too many times before. Only this time, I am not falling. I am flying.
I feel like I could burst out of my skin right now.
