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I’m sure it had a protective quality: my brain just refusing to grasp what it knew it couldn’t handle.
The worst thing about sleeping, after something terrible happens, is that sleeping makes you forget. Which is fine, until you wake up.
I gave her a little smile. Which felt shaky, like those muscles had atrophied, too.
“Singing helps release oxytocin and dopamine and endorphins. It decreases anxiety and depression. It reduces stress and helps regulate the endocrine system. It creates better oxygenation in the blood and leads to better sleep. It increases antibodies and strengthens the immune system. And—” She stepped closer for her grand finale. “Do not say it makes you happy—” “It makes you happy.”
“I’m not strong. I’m just trapped. My body keeps breathing against my will.”
So much of life is just grinding through. So many moments just exist to deliver you to the ones that follow. But this moment was a destination in itself.
This might have been the first time in my life that I did something difficult not for how it would matter to somebody else, but for how it would matter to me.
But I’ve decided sorrow can make things funnier. Endure enough hardship, and you start really needing a good laugh.
You get one life, and it only goes forward.