August 2023
I do this thing, now more than ever, where I stare too much at people. Wait. I don’t stare, I study. I think they find it uncomfortable when I tell them how beautiful they are. They might think I’m just blowing smoke but I’m not. Their faces, their eyes, their freckles and wrinkles. They’re so gorgeous.
I feel like, what if I forget?
This clarity.
This vision I have. It’s kind of painful.
I love it, but it makes me cry.
I feel like it’ll end too soon.
Because even if I get thirty more years, it’ll be too soon.
I was asleep for twenty-five years, it seems. I had moments of beauty, but they were short. I wanted time to pass. Life to get easier. It didn’t, and instead of living I muted out all the colors and just survived.
I went through Covid with everyone. I went through a very sudden divorce. Then, just when I thought I might be shifting into less struggle, I got diagnosed with cancer, and I’ve shared it all. Publicly. It makes me feel more connected to do so.
Yes, it feels unfair. Of course. And anyone who get a rough diagnosis like this, goes through a divorce, survives a global pandemic….they all feel the unfairness of the world. And then there’s something else. This odd surprise. This desire for - yet inability to comprehend - all of the beauty. The colors around me are almost too bright. The people near me, too gorgeous. The sounds of music too much for my heart. I love it.
But.
I might make you uncomfortable.
So be warned.
I’m just struggling with processing all of the pretty things.