There are certain moments that force you to realize life is finite. For example, the first time my mother cut my finger nails, a drop of me fell from my butterfly-thin skin and she began to cry. She knew then that I would never get that blood back. We are still bleeding at each other’s expense. I often find myself dwelling on the what-ifs, pondering what could have been and what may be as a result. I do not always like the answers I find in myself, and other times I am comforted by the brevity of what they show me. It is difficult for me to think in positives. And so, in the midst of midnight trips home from campus and seven hour naps, I let my mind wander.

What if I make it to a year from now? What if I am happy? What if I no longer don patchwork thighs and have no plans to anytime soon? And I begin to see it. I both arise in the morning and settle in for the night wearing a smile because I know the moments to come will be ones of bliss. I have not let out blood to relieve the ailments of others in months. His name is no longer a taste I recognize. Hers is. Life is beautifully complicated and brilliantly tranquil all at once. I utilize my resources and coping mechanisms without shame rather than slabbing on a face mask and calling it “self-care.” I am happy. I am free. I am back in my bedroom at 11:56 on March 1st of 2020 and I can no longer conjure the image in my head from a moment before.

This concept was perhaps the most challenging for me to write about thus far. I wanted desperately to stick to the prompt exactly this time and detail this story-book life I might imagine myself to have years down the road, but in reality it is hard for me to see more than a week into the future without questioning the validity of that time. My ideal reality is constantly transforming as a result of my now, and in this moment that ideal is tomorrow. And then the next day, and then the next. A year ago I was on top of the world. Two months ago I was at rock bottom. Today, I am balancing somewhere in the middle hoping not to lean too far in either direction for fear of upsetting this dance I have caught myself in. I hope to one day pursue a career in a field I love. I hope to get married, become a mother, and live out my days knowing I am loved and have love for others. As for now, I am progressing one day at a time, and I hope that is enough to get me to a place where I can not only dream of a yonder year, but live it.