Remembering Myself

Somehow my brain and memories are still knitting themselves back together, bringing feelings I’d forgotten back with them.

Last night I was being socially anti-social, listening to music on my noise canceling headphones and people-watching rather than participating.

I had a new song I’d discovered playing on a loop, and found, to my surprise, that a sense of well-being and excitement was filling me as I listened, and memory blossomed of when I’d felt that way before.

In my very early 20s I used to visit St. Pete beach after dark with friends. We’d drive from Tampa over to St. Pete and we’d go to a little section away from the hotels where we’d usually find we had the beach to ourselves.

I loved those visits and some evenings by the time we reached that strip of sand by the water I’d be in such a good mood that I’d simply start running across the sand, sprinting down the beach ahead of the group.

There was just something about the speed and motion of that sprint that made me feel as if, for a moment, I’d lightened myself physically to match the lightness of my being.

I wasn’t always the drab, depressed, anxiety-riddled person that might start trembling if the lights are too bright and there are too many people in close proximity.

I had friends that liked me, in spite of – maybe even because of – my offbeat weirdness. They invited me to spend time with them because they found my company interesting and enjoyable.

If I was that person once, maybe I can be that person again.

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