About two weeks ago I was lying in bed after being awake for a few minutes. I noticed that I was growing anxious which is usually a common symptom in the mornings. Closing my eyes, I concentrated on everything that my body was doing: all my weight on my left side, the flutter of my heart, the kink in my neck, the shallowness of my breath.
It was then that I took in a ginormous breath of air. It expanded my entire chest and pushed out into the depth of my lower lungs. It was such an extensive breath that the darkness that was inside was thrown out on the exhale.
Don’t forget to breathe.
I hated how love was something so delicate to hamper with. I hated how love made bad timing. I hated how love decided to show up at lunch in the back of the restaurant over a fish sandwich and me oozing over Colorguard. I hated how it took three years to figure out.