These days, while slouching on the couch, I found myself observing my apartment. Though I have been living here for more than two years now, I was meticulously analysing every corner my sight could reach without me having to move.

“Wow,” was the first thought that came to mind. “I live here.”

Don’t get me wrong. I am not bragging. My apartment is a regular one-bedroom far enough from downtown that I can afford it. And that is my first recognition of accomplishment. I can afford a one-bedroom apartment all by myself.

This realization caused me awe for two reasons:

1. I am normally beating myself up, constantly thinking that I am far behind, that I am late, and that I should be more than what I am at any given moment;
2. I am the “keep-going” type of guy. The one that keeps battling, even when the war is over. I just keep fighting, not stopping to celebrate victories or to recognise my accomplishments once in a while.

Nonetheless, surprisingly there was I, not only acknowledging a victory but also celebrating it, praising myself for being where I dreamt to be. It wasn’t easy to get here and for the first time I actually saw that. I comprehended that and assimilated it.

I was stunned. And that felt good. Good enough that made me wonder why I don’t do it often. Why don’t I recognise more my accomplishments instead of dragging myself down for things I haven’t gotten yet? Why do I keep complaining about what I don’t have and completely ignore all the thing I do have, things that were once a dream and now are a reality.

I think this is part of our eternal human duality: Wanting what we don’t have while not appreciating what we do.

I once dreamt that I was going to be who I am today: someone living abroad, being able to afford themselves, having an independent life, and surrounded by good people.

That dream once came true. I guess I was too busy to keep dreaming more, focusing too much on the goal and too little on the journey.

I once dreamed that I was me… And that… That is my everything.

***

For the first time, I look myself in the mirror and I appreciate what I see. Yes, I do have some crowfeet, yes, I can easily spot white hair on my head now, and yes, my skin isn’t as lush.

But that is who I am now. And before I wasn’t as grown up as I am now. I am my own upgrade, and that feels awesome.

Not long ago I thought I was close to my rock bottom, but, in reality, I don’t even know where that is, because I don’t really think I ever experienced it.

It is no longer about waiting for a sunny day to feel complete. It’s about enduring the dark rainy days while keeping my inner light intact.

“Yeah” I gasp in relief, “I think I finally re-found myself.”

Today was absolutely gorgeous. The second day in a row with temperatures above 12 degrees Celsius, accompanied by our not-so-present Sun. We’ve been so lucky: though still one season apart from Summer, we could all say that today was a generous sneak peek of what is to come in three months.

After a nourishing fat breakfast, our group went separate ways much earlier than I anticipated – I must confess – but you stayed with me: our way back home was the same.

It didn’t take long for us to dive into introspective topics. Things from the heart, of course, and also things about our aspirations in life and where we think we are heading. Sure, I may have started the trend but you didn’t fall behind. A fluid and rich back and forth filled our conversation with challenging questions that would make us reflect about ourselves and our lives.

At some point, I share with you what’s been up with me and what’s been occupying my mind lately. Nothing too new or too foreign. Still, novice enough for you to point out an interesting pattern:

“You are too much in your head. ” – you say objectively – “You are thinking too much.”

For a second, this sentence takes me back to the past. Around twelve years ago, precisely. Don, a great old friend of mine, is seated in front of me telling the exact same thing. Just like you did, he would always point out how much overthinking I was doing.

I giggle.

“An old friend would always tell me that. It is funny how it seems I haven’t fixed this since then.”

We keep our conversation going, changing our lines of thought but still deep-diving into ourselves.

Not much longer after, we see ourselves at our destination. We part ways before I can tell, but the relief you brought stayed with me.

Experiences like today’s are what make me feel so glad to be alive. They remind me how complex we are, yet so small compared to the immense universe that swallows our existence.

Nothing is too small to be ignored.

And nothing is so big that it can’t be somehow dismissed.

What determines how the tiebreaker will unfold is the observer. Be it conscious or unconsciously.

***

The new year arrived with the promise of new beginnings, an interesting sense of curiosity and… a little bit of anxiety to experience what would come next.

I must confess that I normally don’t believe in the magic of the New Year. It’s because, logically speaking, we are just crossing one of the multiple imaginary lines in our lives. Just like borders dividing countries or parallels and meridians slicing the globe into cubes. We increment the year counter by 1 and then we are magically granted a boost to restart. When we put things this way, this all sounds a bit too unreasonable.

This year, though, it all felt a bit different. This time, the New Year really felt like a restart. Many things were left behind, with or without my consent, sometimes even without my awareness. I saw my life turn upside down, and then flip around before spinning uncontrollably. What I believed to be solid terrain proved to be as unstable as quicksand. It sounds terrible, I know, but it was a great year. And, hey, I survived. We all did.

I watched broken bridges be rebuilt and, for a glimpse of time, I saw myself reunited with people I hadn’t seen in a while. It was so nostalgic it made me unsure whether I had traveled back in time or if that was just a sweet dream.

There was so much loss, but also so much gain.

I chuckle. “It’s all about balance”, they say. I have to agree on this one.

As we advance to the second quarter of this new year, the year doesn’t feel like new anymore. But the magic is still here. The path in front of me is earthy and rustic but well-lit. The sunlight stubbornly dodges the leaves of the trees ahead making the scene so warm and cozy. The horizon is a bit cloudy, but clear enough for me to be able to guess what’s waiting for me on the other side.

And for a while – man, it’s been a while – I truly smile. Not a halfway half-assed smile. A big bright one.

Because am finally heading towards where I want to be.

And for that, my friend, I couldn’t be happier.

***

I am looking at a blank page, trying to transcribe all these bubbly feelings inside. The urgency to let it all out is strong, so much so that I can’t hold back. Yet, I stutter. All I can get is a set of repetitive words and phrases that I have already used in many of my writings.

I start by describing a scene that depicts how the sunlight is beautifully embellishing the environment, before I can finish this sentence, I press the backspace repeatedly.

When I finally relax, after repeating the process above a few times, I get back to the keyboard eager to fulfill this calling to put my thoughts on paper. Many images and scenes flood my brain, making it so hard to process everything… Memories mixed with made-up stories in my mind flash before my eyes as soon as I close them.

And then I see you. And us. In a blend of recollections and fiction. I can barely distinguish what is real and what isn’t. I randomly feel the jeans jacket you were wearing on that cold night, both of us shivering but not wanting to be the one to call it a night. More and more scenes drench my brain without my consent.

I don’t hold back a giggle. I am scared to death, but can’t really not follow my rule #1: avoid holding back. So I don’t. As reckless as I can be.

“Uh Oh”, I say before I sigh. In one of those “Aha” I realise the obvious.

Yes, I think I just caught a cold.

The sun is shining in weird angles. Places in the apartment that didn’t get any sunlight are now bathed with it intensely. I know, it is the shift in seasons. It is just curious how these small details still catch my attention, even after repeating themselves over and over again.

I am glad the sun is out. It doesn’t matter how long it is gone, when it is back, it always manages to make a clear statement ”I will show up eventually“. That brings me comfort. It makes me look forward to brighter days when all there is is darkness. I guess part of my perseverance comes from the fact I always expect that the light will be back, no matter how or when.

Throughout most of my life, I worried. I still do. I worry that I am not healthy enough, good enough, happy enough, fast enough. I worry that I am late for what hasn’t even come yet. If I had known all the times I hadn’t seized due to my preoccupation with things, would I have been encouraged to change my behaviour?

I am looking at you right in the eyes. Yes, you. And time seems to have stopped. I observe how incredibly well the blue of your eyes matches with the blue of the sky. It is so damn annoying, I tell you. I hold your hands. They feel warm and cozy. I am about to let them go, but I am afraid that by doing so I’d be repeating the same mistake again… Not waiting for the cake to be ready; Trying to haste a step that needs time. So I hold on. For now.

The truth is that I don’t want to wake up from you. But I don’t want this to become a nightmare either. Am I really dreaming or am I wide awake? If I open my eyes, will you disappear?

In the realm of make-believe, I walk on a silver line, balancing myself not to fall from cloud nine. Step by step. Breathing steadily. Smiling and frowning according to the beat.

If I ever let go, please know that it was a last resort for self-preservation. And that I didn’t want to open my eyes, really. That whatever it was that was said was true at that time…

At last, know that I am not sorry.

Because maybe it just wasn’t the right time.

Maybe we will cross paths again, or maybe not.

And if I end up not letting go.

Well…

Then, let’s just scratch out the above.

I lie down on the living room floor and look through the window. The outside is upside-down, purposefully, and I can’t hold it but giggle a bit at my silliness. I notice how gorgeous the day is: the sky is blue and the sun is beaming strongly. Although the weather looks warm, I know the wind is crisp and the air is not as hot as a month ago. We can’t deny that Autumn is around the corner.

The leaves on the trees in front of my window are gracefully dancing and shining bright as the sunlight penetrates their surface. I wish I could hear their sound, but I can’t: I am listening to one of my favourite songs and I wasn’t shy when setting the volume to almost 100%. While the melody plays along, I keep watching the leaves jittering to the wind incessantly. My heart beats steadily, following the percussion of the song I am listening to.

My mind is far away, crossing a different galaxy as I navigate through a set of emotions. They aren’t loud, which is good, and nothing is foreign: I have been here before; I know this place like the back of my hand. I guess I should be freaking out. Instead, I shrug: It is because I know that the most precious thing to me will never be taken away.

I feel as “comfy” as one can be, floating on and spinning around massive waves of sensations and experiences, like a kid playing in a park. I see life blooming around me, beginnings and endings popping up everywhere.

For the first time in a long time, I love what I see on the horizon before me. It is no longer muddy or dark. It isn’t crystal clear either, but the truth is that it never was. I am gobsmacked by this bright light that is coming from it… Because this is no longer a promise, it is now a reality.

This light warms up every single cell of my body.

And for that…

For that, I am immensely grateful.

I roll my eyes the second I look at the clock and I realise I am fully awake even though it still is six on the dot.

I sigh as my options don’t look good right now: Closing my eyes again will only kill time; Getting to work so early will not make it any better.

I then stay in bed and wait for the big waves of questioning thoughts to flood my mind without a real purpose.

For starters, I am glad I am awake because waking up did cease what I would call a silly nightmare in which “he” throws another tantrum and trashes my place. No further comments on that. The dream before it was as bad: I was trapped in a woody feudal city, trying to stay above water as the whole municipality was being hit and flooded by a tsunami. As far as I can remember, I managed to survive, though it wasn’t an outstanding experience if I can be completely honest here.

I decide to get up – feeling defeated for not being able to nap again – and stand by the window. Cars are passing slowly. I mean, why would they even rush at this hour? The sky is grey and the air coming from outside is refreshing. No doubt the summer is phasing out.

The leaves on the trees in front of my unit will soon be all yellow, then gone. That in a month or two. And while I observe a few of them fall here and there, I think of how life’s about to turn again, just like this season.

Soon, I will be back to square one. Now officially. I can clearly picture this place less busy and quieter. This, in particular, doesn’t scare me, I actually feel excited about it: It symbolises the closure of another chapter, announcing that the darkest has passed and the dawn is finally tinting the horizon.

Although things are looking great, I am scared. Scared to death, as usual. Preoccupied with what I think will happen given past experiences (even knowing that the outcome is in my favour after all hurdles are overcome). Anticipating and preparing for things that might not even take place, like a survivalist. What a silly goose, right?

A ray of light breaks through the clouds and warms up my face. It soon fades away and the day becomes dull again. Its warmth lingers for a while before giving in, long enough for me to smirk.

“Good timing” – I think. Right before an imminent and spiral descent.

The alarm rings. It’s now seven. I wake up from this trance I am in and finally start my mundanely exciting routine.

The same realisation I always have pops in my head once again: Nothing is under control, just like it should be.

I heard the sun finally set for you.

Your final chapter took a while, though we could all say that, still, it was too fast.

It didn’t take too long for me to be notified of your passing.

Sufficienty long enough, though, as I wasn’t able to say goodbye.

Sigh.

I am relieved to know you finally found peace.

And that your pain is gone.

It is frustrating to realise that you had to go with it.

You didn’t have to, did you?

I guess you didn’t have a choice after all…

I hope that if you are still out there somewhere somehow, you find redemption.

I believe that is what you would want.

That… We will never know.

*****

As we spectate you blending with the horizon while you get further and further away, we say our goodbyes to you.

Even knowing you can’t hear us anymore, we say it anyways.

Go in peace and please… Please, don’t look back.

You already left a piece of you in us.

We already took all we needed, now we hold on to it.

That is good enough until we finally meet again.

Until then…

Rest in peace.

I woke up this morning with a bruise on my left knee. I don’t recall how I got it or why it is there. It’s just sitting here like it is a memento of a trauma that is yet to be healed.

I don’t have to close my eyes to spectate flashes of our last talk and how much we hurt each other. I remember watching your eyes through the tears barricading them and asking myself “How did we get here?”… “Why must it be like this?”.

Need I not say that dreams were dismantled both for us? My heart descended to a profound abysm just like yours did as we watched every single thing we pictured for our future falling through the gaps of our fingers like sand. I lost as much as you did and you should know it by now.

You once said you had more to lose. What could that even mean? How can you weigh things you are not aware of? It is unjust for you to think your sacrifices are the only ones that count. There are always two sides to a story. What about mine?

Your recent words pierced my flesh like never before. And I regret listening to them as I still don’t agree with how things were portrayed.

I truly hope you never feel the slightest remorse for what you said to me. You complained that I barely apologised for how I handled things, for how I made you feel… Now I ask you: Have you ever apologised for what you did to me? Do you really think you were the only one living a nightmare? Not recognising your faults on this won’t make things better for us. It will only cover the mistakes, not fix them. Fingers crossed that someday you will understand this. Not for me, but for yourself.

So… I throw you one last smile and say farewell to you. I don’t wave goodbye as I turn my back to you and walk away. I don’t look back nor regret any of the steps forward I am taking right now.

I still wish you nothing but the best, though I won’t say it. And as we get more distant, like celestial bodies being pulled away by forces from opposite directions, I long for your happiness. I really do. But now, from afar.

Eventually, in due course, you will become a vague memory to me as I, too, will to you. Once this happens, we will know, even if unconsciously, that our story is finally sealed.

And then, I am sure, there will be no more hurting.

Not a single cloud is in the sky to smear these infinite shades of blue.

The sun shines bright and beams its light at 60 degrees from the horizon or so.

As the environment becomes more lush and evocative, I feel I can finally breathe. The winter seems nothing but a vague memory of monochromatic days now.

A refreshing breeze caresses my cheeks gently, leaving a cooling trace behind. That is so mundane, but enough to make me content.

An indie song plays along while dry brown leaves swirl on the floor creating mini vortices all around.

The song playing reaches its climax with an intense and enticing fingerstyle guitar solo, which fills all the blank spaces and turns this instant into a movie scene. Well, at least in my head.

I look north and smile.

At the end of Granville Street, if you gaze downhill, you will catch a glimpse of the North Shore Mountains. You know, a small gift from Downtown Vancouver.

This picture transports me to my first day in this city. A younger me wandering around with no clear destination until I noticed the waterfront and realised I could see the mountains from there.

“What a beautiful city” – I thought, astonished by the landscape before my eyes.

I can recall trying to capture as much as I could from that moment… As if I knew I would need to hold on to that memory in darker times.

Glad I did.

***

I was so lost in the moment that I missed my bus stop.

In different circumstances, I probably would be frustrated.

Today, however, I just brushed it off.

The one-and-a-half-block walk would be another opportunity to enjoy the sun while it was still out.

I closed my eyes and tilted my head back facing towards the sun for just a bit, enough to feel it a little longer before getting home.

Without analysing it too much and just focusing on feelings and sensations, it is curious to think about how the light feels warm against our skin.

I guess this is the best part of being alive: experiencing things without trying to decipher all the hidden mechanics that make life what it is.

It may have been just a sunny day with no clouds in the sky – Rudimentary like the flying of a ladybug – But deep enough to turn you inside out…

Just like it should.