"then, there are other days where i am grateful for life. like the day eliseus and i baked a blackforest cake, or any afternoon at 40 hands, before exhaustion sets in. saturday mornings, waking up to the sound of my door creaking open. there were many days this year that came close to perfect—freely laughing and eating. i wish it would end there, freezing contentment into my bones. what do perfect days give us, except a solid memory worth holding on to. i clutch onto the corner-end of these sheets saying, there will be better days without even needing to reach for a glass. but time relentlessly moves forward, without sympathy for the past. i am only asking for relief. to be okay, and if the gods could grant a little more, feel like i deserve being okay. "