relief

relief comes with ease of breath. the end of a burden. the crumbling of yesterday's dreams for today's happiness. 

i feel relieved. this relief is a sign that something must change.
because i am not that girl anymore. i have grown in all directions inside myself. i have had experiences incomprehensible to anyone but me.

it is not a conclusion of something, but the soft fading of that chapter into ellipses of silence. perhaps it will be resumed. returned to. because there is good material there, material an author should not cast aside.
but it will wait. it must wait.

the next page i turn into will encompass bold words and the expression of myself. not through a keyboard, but with my eyes. and my hands. my heart and mouth and words.

i'm turning the page. the book is not closed, yet, but i am moving on into a new paragraph of life. a new sentence of happiness. and whether or not you can join me in time, i can't know, but i do know that i must go on. i must keep writing my story with laughter, earning my wisdom of age and innocence of experience. 

nostalgia has its place.
you have your place.
and i have mine.

all i want to feel is tomorrow for all its worth.