Unlike everyone else who spends summers in beaches, I use the 40 degrees Celsius days drowning in the cold and dark abyss that is my own stream of consciousness.
My mind is a generator of the worst case scenarios. I have a knack looking at a bad situation and making it appear a thousand times worse than it is. It isn’t the best talent, but that’s still a skill I have mastered so I take pride in it.
Self-deprecation aside, there are a few good things I’m actually great at. I like that I draw and write and basically make art out of anger or love or whatnot. I like that I daydream a lot and that my imagination gives me enough power to hop from one universe to another.
Sometimes it takes only one deep breath to be back at that moment where I wish I did things better. In my head, I replay what’s long been gone and rehearse being kinder and braver. In my head, I can be happier.
Another deep breath and I’m off to another world. I wake up to my human alarm clock– my own kids jumping on the bed and screaming in excitement because we’ll be spending the weekend at the beach. I smell burnt bacon, eggs, and buttered toast from downstairs– the love of my life is trying to cook breakfast again. The summer sun gleams from the window and greets me good morning. This is one of the best days of my life and I know it gets a thousand times better from here. After a long drive and loud singing in the car, clear blue skies and 40 degrees Celsius heat welcome us. We can’t wait to make sandcastles and to keep whatever precious thing the ocean waves may bring.
Far tomorrows seem so beautiful and inviting.
I don’t know how to get there but I’m on my way.