Missing the Trampoline

While you were all mingling laughter with sunlight, I was on my knees in the dark. But don’t ask for me and don’t worry, because trampolines you have always with you but I cannot wait to show you what I saw—and I was on my knees because that was as close as I could get to the light. It slipped in through cracks, chinks; it was only itself; it had every right to be there. I might have missed it if not for the dark. It was beautiful. Everything it touched was beautiful. I can’t wait to show you. I can’t wait.

I’m done waiting. Maybe I was alone with the dust when you were all out there being human in another way, but I’m fine. Really fine, not hiding behind a word that means nothing—I have not slept through the night for months. I am terrified. I don’t know what’s coming next, I don’t know— But I had not felt like myself for what seems like a century and now I do, I do, I am alive and by god, I am willing. Ask me. I’m going to say yes. And if you don’t ask, I won’t wait; yes, yes, and yes again. Yes to everything. It’s time.

We don’t know everything or anything and I broke the thermometer, I said the wrong thing, I did, I did, and I’ll do it again and so will you, but there’s one thing I’ll never apologize for:
I know that the world is a beautiful place, and I will never stop looking for ways to show you that.