Do you ever feel guilty over the things you have but will never get to share?

I feel an inordinate amount of happiness on most days. Like when I’m told I’m excelling at my new, higher position at work. When my coworkers surprise me with cake on my last day in the office. When I meet up with an old friend who tells me stories from my past that I have since forgotten or sealed in the chaos of my brain. When I’m told I look good, even when I feel like a mess. When friends check up on me. Or when my sister and brother complete their chores without reminders.

When the future, which seemed so bleak, has at last rearranged itself to resemble something positive and attainable.

But then I think about you. And suddenly I’m caught in a tidal wave.

Sometimes I’m riding the peak, and I feel like I’m on top of the world. Invincible.

And other times, I’m caught in the grip of the undertow. Drowning. Half-wishing to rise for air. Half-wishing the darkness would engulf me.

And then I wonder: have you ever felt this way, too?

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