winter feels like spring

it was dark in there. not because of the purple walls. not because I couldn't find a spot to put the perfect lamp that I couldn't actually afford. not exactly sure why. I don't want to use the d-word, because I don't think it was ever that deep. I wasn't depressed...was I? I mean, I remember laughing. I remember taking pictures and smiling. I remember enjoying myself. but I also remember darkness. stretches and stretches of darkness. of feeling alone, of smiling and nodding, saying I was fine when I wasn't.

but I don't remember crying, so it couldn't have been that bad.

though I'd never consider myself to be a "private person," I've never been one to spill everything.  what that translates to is that there are a lot of people who may be familiar with the current event in my life, but very few will know how it actually makes me feel. call it the "I'm over it" syndrome. I never actually am.

I guess I just kept a brave face.

typing this now makes me remember summer 06. living in harlem in a columbia-affiliated dorm. the first summer I was truly on my own after my family moved to Georgia. I was miserable. I'd go intern at a magazine that I would've never read had I not been working for it, in a department I could give a fuck less about, to return to a cellblock. I'd be asleep by 7pm to wake up 12 hours later to do it all again.  a routine I perfected in 2010.

2010. my highs were never that high, but my lows were low. and now that I look back, I understand why prayer changes things.

there's something different about me. I can't articulate it. I can't tell you when it happened. but I know I've been changed. and I know that I'm happy.

I know that after a busy summer, the prospect of dealing with five to six long winter-feeling months made me sad. made me wonder about the so-called seasonal affective disorder and if I'd fall victim to it. I didn't want to, but I was mentally prepared for it.

every night I'd pray for peace. for peace in my home, peace at work, peace in my friendships, peace within myself. peace. it's a very important word to me. it brings grounding. calm during the storm.

I sit at work brimming with excitement. pure joy. when I'm at home I'll get a running start and fly onto my bed. roll around in my purple sheets. for what reason? I couldn't tell you. and damn that feels good.

I don't remember ever feeling this good to be sitting in this seat, in this skin. this really feels good. thank you, God.