Breathing...

June 5th. So hard to forget, yet impossible to fully remember.

Life changed tremendously, yet somehow I became stale...lacking. Never before had I allowed my life to be so beyond my own control.

I lost faith in my ability to control things on that day. If I could somehow let something so precious slip away, how can I be entrusted with anything else?...

Since then, I've allowed outside forces to make my decisions, determine my feelings, orchestrate my life. At first, it was comforting. I could barely manage to eat or sleep. Outside control was welcomed, appreciated even. Yet, slowly a shift began to occur.

At first, I only found myself feeling slightly smothered. Like a hand being pressed against my chest, I found it more difficult to breathe, but not impossible. Slowly, the hand increased its pressure until it felt as if a I was locked in a vice; grasped too tightly by another's hand. I was no longer breathing on my own...instead, I had to rely on others to breathe for me. Each forced breath was painful. As the oxygen hit my lungs, there was a cruel reminder of what life was like before...before June 5.

With each painful inhalation, I pried my fingers against the immense pressure...longing it to free me. It was not easy. I soon found my body sore and my mind exhausted from the struggle. Then there was a moment. A moment when I felt the vice loosen...just a bit. But it loosen nonetheless and for the first time in a long time I felt I might want some control back, as if I might, just might, be capable of handling it again.

I don't want the helping hands to completely leave me---I will always need them to wipe away tears, fight off enemies and hold onto during cold winter nights. But I think I am capable now of breathing on my own...

...of holding onto my heart all by myself....