waiting

i'm waiting for the walls to build in the manner they are accustomed to building: quick and soundless, often a surprise to me and to you.

it has been a lazy manifestation.

often my core has felt heavy. 20# weights dangling from heart strings, pulling limbs, lungs, and laughter deep into an abyss not yet identified by anatomy; barely enough energy to hold my head up and face life's challenges. too tired to even cry or fight back.

i've held my breath for so long. now full of sweet air, i can only smile and laugh.

i succumb to sleep and awaken to the same thought. a thought that consists of a single and simple phrase, but is one that i can't help but repeat to myself throughout the day. partly out of disbelief and partly because it is the source of such extreme and unconditional happiness.

i still have questions and insecurities, but they are trumped by wide-eyed curiousity and sense of belonging. i count days, hours, and minutes. i smile for no reason except for that one overwhelming saturated reason.

i have but one fear: that this will all end too soon. and with that thought, i hold my breath once again. the air is no longer sweet, the smile disappears, and the heaviness begins to descend.

but really, it is only a matter of closing my eyes and conjuring up an image to bring about a lightness in my soul, a quickness to my step, and a joyous ring to my laughter.

i am happy.

and i suspect that the walls may never arise because this time they weren't meant to.