I am a jumble of emotions, knowing not what to feel. I am not angry, because I am too tired to feel so. I am not sad, because I am too numb to feel so. I am not happy, because I don't allow myself to feel so.
Feeling bad about myself comes easy. It is effortless, but I am forced to feel good about myself, in a world where nobody cares. And that is the most exhausting of all my human endeavours.
But as I sit here, gazing at the magic unfolding on the horizon, a sigh escapes me. I can't comprehend what I am feeling, can't put a name to it. But, the fire spreading in the sky is slowly finding its way within.
I am healing, without knowing that I was ever broken. This rising sun, peeking behind those pesky cloud, sparks an ineffable hope in me. It rises with a quiet determination, not expecting anyone to appreciate its beauty or respect its being. It does not ask to be called a great phenomenon nor does it wallow in pity when it isn't hailed as such. It just is.
And I, looking at this daily ritual with an awe that never grows old, am finally free.
Free to believe, I am worth it, despite it all.