Tense

Yesterday.

My life was rife with apathy. I existed in a churning vacuum of uncertainty, a hollow echo of footsteps that led nowhere.

I was a fractured reflection, a piece of myself held together by thin threads of routine.

Unsure.

Monotony draped over me like a second skin,

tight enough to remind me I was still breathing, but never enough to make me feel alive.

Indecision was my language, spoken fluently in “maybes” and “I don’t know.”

Punctuated by silent prayers I wasn’t sure anyone heard.

Today.

Today my cup is full.

Not in the way that spills over, but in the way that feels endless; a wellspring, deep and vast.

I drink, and there’s always more.

Today I am love. Not just the noun, but the verb, an action, a choice, an energy that lives in my chest, warm and pulsing, stretching beyond my skin.

I feel loved in echoes and in silence, in the spaces between words, in the mirror when I look without flinching.

I love without caution, without the need to measure.

Today, I discover things about me; small, brilliant truths tucked in quiet corners, and I explore the rest with open hands.

Today, I am excited for tomorrow.

Not because I need it to be better, but because I know I will be.

Tomorrow, I will meet myself again, in new light, with new questions, with echoes of today still soft in my chest.

I will carry the lessons etched into my bones, but I will not be bound by them.

I will forgive myself for the weight I still hold, and for the moments I forget how light I’ve become. I will not measure my growth by how little I ache, but by how gently I hold the ache when it comes.

Tomorrow, I will choose myself, not out of habit, but out of knowing I am worth choosing, every time.

Tomorrow isn’t a destination. It is the next note in the song I’m still learning to sing. 

The next page in a story I’m writing and living.

The next breath.

Full.

Deep. 

Mine.