remember this

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I want to remember this moment; this paper-thin slice of life that feels long now, but I know will be gone in a heartbeat. I want to take a moment to acknowledge the bittersweet of it, all quicksilver pulse and anxious hands.

In the grand scheme of things, I know that this moment is inconsequential; that in six months’ time I will struggle to remember the discomfort of it, its tidal-wave feeling. But for now, it is like pulling teeth, and I wake up in the morning I sit with it, and I want to respect that. To respect the overwhelm and the trudging through it, even if it is cheap angst, mostly; an inflated sense of panic.

It looks like this: the fluttering breaths and the desk that has become mine at the library, pulling page after page out of my fingers and my mind. It is not important that it is good; it probably never will be. Done is better than perfect. Done is the only important thing.

I want to remember the audios we send one another across time zones and an ocean, and how both of our voices break at the end of them, the wet of it. It’s hard, and it sucks, and am grateful for a friendship that leaves room for that: for the quiet crumbling, and for the sitting through it together.

These days are raw and I am so grateful for the people that see me through it. For their fierce protectiveness and their calm. I am grateful for them believing when I cannot; for them letting me lean on them. For answering seven a.m. phone calls and sending emojis.

It is a weird season, and I count the days until it is over. And, even though I want to honor this moment for what it is, I also look forward to getting over it. There will be champagne to celebrate.

 

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