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written 3/3/21

Wall sits are hard.

And so is this changing weather.

We spent the whole afternoon outside. Something we haven't done in months.

Never have I ever been depressed in the spring, and I'm not depressed now.

But I'm sad. And anxious. Deep in the basement where anxiety doesn't announce itself but instead runs continuously until you're exhausted and you don't know why and you have to pull up all your tabs and close out twenty windows you forgot you left open. I'm subconsciously running from something.

From last year.

From loss.

Spring reminds me of how much I used to love spring. nature. Homeschooling.

How different our family used to be.

Someday I'll write.

When I have more gray hair than brown or blonde or blue or whatever I choose and I can see how this ends and who our family, who I, turned out to be. For today I'll sit outside and listen to the laughter and feel the breeze and smell the smell of half a dozen springs and leave my shoes inside and pretend this is how it always is.

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