“Death visits us just once, but we get to live again and again every time we wake up.” Tonight… I don’t feel reborn. I don’t feel like some miracle of survival. I’m just tired. The kind of tired that sinks into the bones. Today felt like one long exhale I never got to breathe back in. Everything was heavy — not dramatic, not catastrophic — just the quiet kind of heavy that no one sees. The kind you carry alone. And maybe that’s why this quote hit me. Because honestly, I didn’t feel like I “lived” today. I just got through it. I existed. Moved from hour to hour. Showed up because I had to, not because I wanted to. But maybe that’s still something. Maybe surviving days like this is its own kind of living. Maybe waking up, even when my heart feels numb, still counts as choosing life in the smallest, rawest way. Maybe I don’t need to rise like a phoenix every morning. Maybe it’s okay if some days I just… rise. Barely. But still rise. Tonight, I’m not promising myself a big comeback t...
When one doesn’t have the things that one loves, one must love what one has.