On days like this, I feel no pain.
On days like this, all the losses and heartbreaks seem like unrealized dreams.
On days like this, I am hopeful about today, tomorrow and even yesterday.
On days like this, my ability to forget disappears and I am reminded of all the good times, and they’re not painful at all.
On days like this, all I want to do is say እልልልል for no apparent reason.
On days like this, I’m filled with so much energy, I have no idea what to do with it.
On days like this, all I want is to be nothing but in my skin. This body could remain with me forever, and I will not complain about it.
Of course, this is an exaggeration and I am aware of all of my imperfections. Someone once told me I am perfect and it rubbed me the wrong way. Perfectionism isn’t something I am attracted to, mostly because I value my freedom, and a perfect world eliminates mistakes or freedom.
Yet,
on days like this, I am unable to be anything other than myself. The universe screams me me me, and I am actually able to tolerate it.
On days like this, you can compliment me and I can easily say thank you without being uncomfortable. I might even agree with you.
On days like this, I feel sorry for those who have lost me and will never get the chance to know me.
On days like this, I tell myself I love me and it frees me. Because I must be mine before I can be anyone else’s.