A letter from Oct 28th, 2021

After the dark. There is a light that flickers. Just at the edge of my periphery. I know it's there, but when I turn my head to look it's gone. And yet I can feel it dance, just out of sight. I've been walking through the dark for so long I've wondered if I can remember what the light feels like. To bask in the glory of it, as I once did. And yet. Having felt the dark and become so intimate with it... Walking towards the light becomes a scary thing. Being in the light has become a memory. I'll have to relearn what walking in the light feels like. I don't know if I'll ever shake the darkness. Not completely. Little pieces of it will get stuck in my pockets. To be found when I want to hide my hands from the cold. In the gray hairs that weren't there before. In the wrinkles that have made my face their home. In the scars that you can't see with your eyes. The light has become a dream, but maybe not as impossible as I've started to think it is. There's another flicker. Brighter than before. Enough to allow for Hope.