I spent most of the weekend on the verge of tears.
If not on the verge, I was generally in them.
But never from sadness, only tears of joy and appreciation.
I was me this weekend.
You know, the old me.
I cried because I’ve missed this me so much. I like this me. This me is easy to take out in public.
I’ve cried because I know this won’t last forever. That I could wake up tomorrow and this me could be taken hostage by the part of my brain I can’t control.
I’ve cried because for the first time in a long time I was able to look around and see beauty in every. single. thing.
Especially the people I am lucky enough to be surrounded by.
I have such good people around me. I sometimes feel I don’t deserve to be in the ranks of the friends I have.
I have such a good life. I couldn’t even name the ways.
This weekend I didn’t hide behind my camera. I used it to capture and hopefully hold on the the beauty that engulfed me this weekend, and hopefully I can lock this feeling away somewhere safe in my heart where my brain can’t touch it.
I’m so scared of when this me is going to go.
But I can’t live in fear of that moment. I must live in hope of this one, right now. Knowing with all my heart that it will return.