I might not realize that, relative to the mightiest who are no longer with us, I am strong.
The awareness that with each breath, I have the ability to sustain, improve, or even create a new future would allude me.
Kind words from strangers, and persistent calls from friends and family would be a nuisance.
That car that’s always in the shop or my drafty small bedroom might cause me to overlook their ample function and curse contentment.
Lonely nights wouldn’t realize their liberating creative potential.
The wisdom acquired through pain would not light my path, or protect those who come behind me.
My larger than life smile would hide in the shadows of a persistent frown.
My murky lens would distort the memories of the purest and most genuine moments of joy that disrupt my otherwise steady state melancholy.
Alas, I’m not depressed, any more…