Chronicles of DANIA

You’re healed.

You’re eating again, smiling again, taking pleasure in the little things; even glowing. Your friends say you’re glowing. Books are interesting again, Music is rhythmic again. Love is desired again, and no longer banished forever. These days when you laugh, no sorrow falls out.

But out of the blue he texts you. Something seemingly innocuous, like “Hey, see our game last night?”

And all of a sudden you’re not healed again. The dam bursts and the waters of unwanted feeling rush at you like it’s nobody’s business, not even yours- happiness that he’s texted you, pain because he hurt you, anger because why now, and something else that you can’t quite find the word for…longing maybe, because you still want him. And mad. You’re mad because you’ve given yourself ‘the talk’. The one that itemizes all the reasons he’s not the one. The one that rationalizes the situation; not in an ‘everything happens for a reason’ type of way, but in a ‘this thing happened for a reason’ type of way. Heck, you even learned all the lessons.

The lessons. You remember the lessons. How the timing wasn’t right. How you were in different emotional spaces. How you both saw the end coming afar off but still dove in anyway, because feelings. You remember calling a meeting to go over these things with your head and heart; giving them both a stern talking to, and making them promise to do better next time. You remember the time. The time you lost agonizing over the situation, and getting over the loss. You remember the time it took you to move forward, time which you will never get back. The time it took you to get to this place. This place where everything is fine again.

You look in the mirror, and all of a sudden, his text, as innocuous as poison ivy, doesn’t matter anymore. You like who you are again. You’re eating again, smiling again, taking pleasure in the little things; even glowing. Your friends say you’re glowing. Books are interesting again, Music is rhythmic again. Love is desired again, and no longer banished forever. These days when you laugh, no sorrow falls out.

You’re healed goddamn it, and by Jove you intend to stay that way.