I'm feeling like myself again.
More than ever.
At least more than the last year has allowed me to.
I'm unsure of exactly where it came from.
Maybe from manning up and deciding to change what I can, and learning to love what I can't.
Also, remembering that I'm in no hurry.
And being okay with just letting things be.
Letting them occur how they will.
Forced things aren't nearly as beautiful.
(I love The Cure.)
My days are beautiful... and sometimes I forget.
A little winter bike ride heals everything.
(My laundry is done... I will return shortly...)
That wasn't shortly.
That was about 4 hours.
Don't worry... it wasn't just laundry.
I'm in the mood to read a lot of Virginia Woolf.
I'm also in the mood to write.
I mean, really write.
I really haven't done that in a while.
I'm glad I moved to New York City in the winter... because I know if I can get through this, I can get through anything this city has to throw at me.
Plus, I've heard that spring and summer are really something to look forward to.
I'm glad that this place will really start feeling like home once those lovely seasons roll around.
I have faith that it will.
I know that it will.
These things take time.
All things take time.
And this process really is beautiful.
I would choose no other life for myself.
This is the one I've always wanted, and were I expect it to not be difficult at moments, I would be a fool.
All things in time.
All will be well.
I am content.