A Day Like This

by Kelley McNeil

I swiped a tear away, whispering through a tight throat. “I just miss her so much I can’t breathe. Every day, I wake up, expecting her to run into the room. And then I open my eyes, and this hell begins again. I’m mourning the loss of a

Getting out of bed was an accomplishment. My goal was functioning, not living.

I think you need to start getting out of the apartment more. Talking, existing outside. I know you feel like you’re in a bubble right now, but the world is still turning.” Was it? Because it felt to me like the world had stopped.

I’m sorry you don’t have that. I am sorry you couldn’t have every single thing you wanted. Really, I am. But you know what? Even if you did, you’d still find something to wish for instead. Something more. Something else. You need to open your eyes, Annie, and look at yourself for once. And realize that maybe the problem is you.”

“I am unable to describe exactly what is the matter with me; now and then there are horrible fits of anxiety, apparently without cause, or otherwise a feeling of emptiness and fatigue in the head . . . and at times I have attacks of melancholy and of atrocious remorse. There are moments when I am twisted by enthusiasm or madness or prophecy.” —Vincent van Gogh

Every life has choices. Do we take the job or don’t we? Do we buy the house or not? Do we break off the engagement or go through with the wedding? Do we go through the yellow light or wait? Our path—the people we love, the life we lead—is forever altered by each decision large and small.

Some choices are easier than others. The key is to be at peace in the moment. To celebrate the here and now. No life

is perfect, I’ve learned. But if you’re lucky, it can come pretty close.