I stood on a balcony feeling the breeze of an evening on the Amalfi coast. I watched the waves and the boats and a silhouette go down a water-slide. I saw a blue and purple sky dotted by the moon. I’m not one to happy-cry (that’s not usually a depressed person’s thing) but my eyes welled up with tears. I felt the ache of knowing there is so much of the ocean I’ve never seen. I missed curiosity. Depression is a vision down only the most dreary of tunnels. I missed this feeling of wanting – to see every country, to read every book, to meet new people. I had lost this feeling like you lose a nickle on the street. I want to live as long as I can and hopefully die knowing I saw everything I could. Right now, I can’t fathom depression but I know there was a time when I couldn’t fathom here. I guess that’s why I’m writing this, to make this feeling tangible.
It’s real. It’s real. It’s real.