distant memory of a good day

it was a good day. i think. and we went to the city, and we felt like big kids all of a sudden. didn’t we? took deep breaths of the fresh blue air, and ate fancy macaroons, and pretended there was not a problem in the world we couldn’t fix, even though that really isn’t true. 

went shopping, and dressed up  like the people we wish we were. and tried to swallow down the panic. and that was one of the last times i saw you. wasn’t it? 

but it was a good day. a really, really good day. and if i had known what was coming, i wouldn’t have spent it any other way. 

and i just want to go back. want to bury myself in the past, and stay there forever. where things were okay. where every day, i didn’t wake up, and feel this fucking afraid. 

because now i’m just alone. and scared. and unsure. and sometimes, it feels like the floor is crumbling beneath me. and it’s just not like that anymore.


So apparently now I literally only write semi-depressing nostalgic poetry about all the things I miss pre-quarantine. But, I don’t know, I am starting to learn how to cope with this, and make something semi-productive out of a really hard time for me. I haven’t had a complete breakdown in a while, and I’m functioning. I’m surviving. I can’t say I’m doing “good” honestly–although I don’t know if I ever have been able to honestly say that, for a prolonged period of time. But I am doing okay, which I think is kind of all I can ask for right now. I hope you all are doing okay, too.  We’re going to get through this together. I have to believe that. Oh, yeah, and on a completely different note, the first episode of my podcast is hot off the digital press and literally just came out! You can listen to it here.

Lots of love,

dragonwritesthings

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