The time is now

The cute guy from the 8th floor smiled at me. I wanted to respond about what he last said, benign in fact, something about what a great view I must have from the top floor. My daughter had said to me " Mom, he wants to see your view." Unfortunately any possible response would have sounded cougar-esque, and anything I said would have sounded like I was channeling Marge Simpson's sisters. So I stretched my lips into a fake smile, quietly reacting to his presence.

The point of this is that there is something new in the air. It feels new in a way that rebirth can feel. My whole demeanor is relaxed, but not dumb. I can still let innocence play its part, but rationality is still there at the centre.

There is a shift in balance. What once would have left me spinning goes away quite quickly. The scars, or memories really, are all still there, like the reminders of potholes in a road well-travelled. I just swerve over them now. When the feeling rises, I acknowledge them like a long lost friend, then lose them in the crowd.

Perhaps the time from the depths of despair to now seems too short for me to say definitively that I'm on my way, but there is no question, I do feel better, lighter, and ready to face it all.