These days... things seem a little simpler. I stand a little straighter. My shoulders pull back and down and my gaze is forward.
Sometimes when walking I have to squeeze my hands into tiny fists to contain this excitement.
These days... time does that thing where it moves too quick and passes too slow. I feel like I can't get enough of it and that I have nothing but time ahead of me -- at the same time.
Foggy evenings on piers are like hanging out in a cloud. Tips are shared for letting eyes open in such a way that it makes light reflections look like millions of sparkles in rapid conversation with one another.
Lazy days with no plans turn into long walks around curvy streets and laying in the grass identifying shapes out of clouds.
Swing dancing happens surrounded by trees to the soundtrack of a rushing stream and little hums of familiar tunes. A lost feather found a perfect home in the room of whimsy, where the heart swelled in such a way that the only place for it to go was in tears of joy.
These days...eyes say more than words ever could and hands always find each other while walking down the streets or just before drifting to sleep.
There's a sense of knowing and just a great appreciation for another open heart.
There's a bit of fear, for this is new and terrifying and oh-so-wonderful, but I am more myself than I've ever been.
These days...happiness seems boundless and falling seems right. There's room to let time do its thing. Wrap itself around this and allow everything to just be.