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  • Sometimes I drown in my memories, searching for a gasp of air as another brick of the past is tied to my feet, pulling me deeper under. Images flash just like a life before one's eyes, telling me that this is the end, that it's time to take off the mask and just soak it in. His shaggy black hair, the fullness of his lips, the way his warm chocolate eyes shone the last time he said goodbye. The pain and confusion, the hopelessness, the heartbreak.
    They tell me to look up, to forget about the past. 'It's not your place to worry,' they tell me, as if my emotions are optional. 'Have faith,' they say, looking up at the blurred cross above us, as if something will jump down and enlighten me right there. But it doesn't, and that's okay.
    It's okay to not look forward at every moment. It's okay to look beside yourself, and whether or not there's someone there, it's the place where you're you. Don't worry about the trek uphill you may have to take, sometimes we just have to take a breath, open our eyes, and love us right where we're at.
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