It is August and I am learning how to breathe again.
After the anticipation of a summer that is come, and the miracles I hoped would present themselves have wavered away, I am left with the last month of a summer that is already a memory.
It is August and I am learning how to be again.
How to be still when my heart is racing after seeing you in a grocery store by chance one summer evening two weeks ago.
It is August and I am learning how to laugh again.
Not the fake laughs reserved for work and fake people and fake situations, the laugh that comes from deep within, the unattractive, head thrown back type of laugh that only real friends are privy to.
It is August and I am learning how to read again.
How to read the signs that June and July were trying to show me, he doesn't care so pick yourself up and move on. How to read the body language of people you longed to hold.
It is August and I am learning how to sing again.
Sing the words to a life long gone, sing the songs I as a little girl belted out in the car with the windows down, my mother laughing behind the wheel.
It is August and I am learning how to count again.
Learning how to count on the people who have my back and who genuinely want to see me happy. Counting on the freshness of a new month, season or day.
It is August and I am learning how to believe in the magic of new beginnings.
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