Re:pose

The morning is mild, but not out of the ordinary. The skies are grey, people hesitant in the street. You wear a jacket and wonder if it's too thin. They had promised magic.

When it came you would not have had it any other way. How in an instant the shoots sprout from the earth like nothing ever died, how the sun sparkles in the East River like all was pure and good and nothing ever hurt it. We stayed outside the entire day, peeling layers of clothing and laughing at the birds going mad in the trees. You know there was a time when you couldn't so much as open your eyelids but you don't quite understand it, now. Was that me? Was that true? I no longer remember a time without a smile on my face.

The magic, thus, lies not in the warm air on your skin or the bright light in your eyes. The magic lies in how you forgive winter its destruction, how you forgive yourself these scars across your body, how you overflow with love and truly believe you have never been broken.

The blissful ignorance is short, of course. But it saves your life, every time.