I Have and I Will

I can still feel the moist coolness of the damp earth on my bare feet from that summer. I am lying on a wooden bench, my body so naturally pressing against its surface. As I stare up into the sky, I can see the canopies of the redwoods. Their multiple branches interlocking with each other, while bits of blue sky manage to peek through. I begin to think about you and all the other wonderful, fascinating individuals I have so quickly befriended. Suddenly, I am completely immersed and engulfed by this deep sense of tranquility I have never quite encountered before. It paralyzes me. It is almost as if some supernatural force has compelled the wind to lean in and whisper, “It’s okay, I understand, you can stop grieving now.” I would be lying if I said I haven’t sobbed for what seemed like endless hours for no apparent reason since then. Yes, I would be lying if I said I haven’t felt terrified, hopeless, and completely destroyed since that day. But I also know what it feels like to be fully at ease and content with life. And I know I will feel like this again because I have and I will. And I know one day I will be able to look back on my life and describe it in six short lovely words permanently written on my back, “Everything was beautiful, and nothing hurt.”