and we will sleep by the ocean, our hearts will move with the tide.

i go through phases - they seem cyclical every 6-8 months, where i just feel.. broken.  maybe not broken. but.. lost?

there's probably a much bigger issue there, but mostly i've rode it out over the years. i get into a funk and retreat back into myself and then typically emerge chasing after a new hobby, or interest, or project, or travel plan. i tell myself i just need more discipline. more routines. track all the things. finish the to do list. just don't stop moving, don't start missing.

its been years since i truly felt like i wasn't sure if i would make it out to the other side of it. there was a brief window senior year of college after the assault where i hit rock bottom and i really struggled to understand the point.

i think about her a lot in these times because, honestly, i know deep down that you can't live for the people around you, you have to live for yourself. and i just want to tell her that she's worth living for. she is whole. as is. that this is a just a really deep valley. that the climb is fucking excruciating, but that the world is entirely dim without her in it. that there is so much she'll miss, so much i want her there for and so many fucking people that will miss her. 

it's during these phases, or funks, or boughs of depression that the word ache feels like it takes on a visceral meaning. i can feel it in my bones and it settles in my chest and i know then that soon the dreams will come where i feel them both strongest and that it hopefully means that i'll be coming up for air again soon.