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There’s a lot of things I miss about being alive.
Forgive me, I’m afraid I might ramble for a while, but I feel like it’s important.
Forgive me, I’m afraid I might ramble for a while, but I feel like it’s important.
I miss the big things of being alive. I miss eating, and drinking, and being able to touch and smell and taste. I miss feeling the sun and the rain and the wind. I miss breathing, and feeling.
But more than all that, I miss the little things. I miss the small, insignificant moments.
I miss opening a new book for the first time and feeling the way the smooth pages slide under my thumb.
I miss lying on fresh, clean bedsheets.
I miss opening a new book for the first time and feeling the way the smooth pages slide under my thumb.
I miss lying on fresh, clean bedsheets.
I miss watching dust particles float through golden beams of sunlight.
I miss perfectly ripping the wrappers off the top of ketchup bottles.
I miss putting two pennies in between my fingers and clinking them like little cymbals.
I miss perfectly ripping the wrappers off the top of ketchup bottles.
I miss putting two pennies in between my fingers and clinking them like little cymbals.
I miss sitting down with my son and helping him tie his shoes.
I miss waking him up from school every morning.
I miss eating ice cream on a hot summer day with hm.
I just miss him, I suppose.
I miss waking him up from school every morning.
I miss eating ice cream on a hot summer day with hm.
I just miss him, I suppose.
Sometimes, it’s easy to forget about all the little things, especially when there are big things to worry about.
It’s so easy to be overwhelmed, and stressed. And when we’re stressed and overwhelmed, it’s hard to be happy. It’s hard to be okay with yourself.
It’s so easy to be overwhelmed, and stressed. And when we’re stressed and overwhelmed, it’s hard to be happy. It’s hard to be okay with yourself.
But I am here to tell you that it’s okay.
You are you. You are a person. You have a pulse, you have a face, you have a name. You are someone.
And you are beautiful.
You are you. You are a person. You have a pulse, you have a face, you have a name. You are someone.
And you are beautiful.
The pain you feel is valid. You’re not wrong, or broken, or weak to feel the way you do. But I hope you know that it doesn’t define you. Your life will not be endless suffering, even if it feels like it will. All you have to do is keep going.
Even if it’s just for another ten minutes. And then another ten minutes after that. And then another then minutes after those then minutes, until you’ve lived another day.
And that’s amazing, that you just did that. With the weight of everting in your life on your shoulders, you survived another day, and I’m proud of you. You did it.
I know life isn’t easy. But it IS beautiful. And it’s okay to not be able to see the beauty right now.
But I hope that one day you have the time and the peace of mind to stop and appreciate the little things.
But I hope that one day you have the time and the peace of mind to stop and appreciate the little things.
I hope one day you get to tie another person’s shoes. I hope one day you get to lie in warm beans of sunlight. I hope one day you can take comfort in reading a good book without feeling selfish for indulging in your hobbies.
I hope that one day you can look in the mirror and see yourself for the beautiful, unique person that you are. Because you deserve it. You deserve to be happy.
