i spent this past weekend in vermont with my friends and sister. we made the drive up on friday and for the next few days, we sat in the hot tub and drank until our faces were red from heat and our jaws ached from laughter. we played punch for punch, built fires and recorded songs on matt’s flipcam. some of us skied black diamond trails while others watched random Olympic sports on the television. we snuggled on the pull-out couch and in each others beds and arms. we took three hundred silly pictures, three hundred inside jokes.
we came home last night and today i turned twenty four.
my coworkers bought me lunch and flowers. my boss got me a book that i had mentioned i wanted to read weeks ago. my friends and family texted and called and wrote on my facebook wall. they remembered.
my parents called me and told me how much they loved me, how important i was to them. 8:34 on a sunday night, they said. that’s when our lives changed.
after work, my friends took me out to dinner. we laughed and drank sangria and talked about the weekend.
as i walked home, i remembered that just a week ago, i was in such pain that i didn’t know how much longer i could keep my head above water. i was losing my strength—both physical and emotional— in a way that scared me.
but the past seven days have been the answer to a prayer i don’t remember asking for.
they—you—have brought me back.
as i blew out my candles on saturday night, i looked around, my face flushed with happiness. i realized that this year, for the first time, i forgot to wish for anything. i forgot to ask to be better. i forgot to wish for the ease i so often covet .
i am twenty four years old now and i am still learning to cope, how to stop wishing to be healthy and normal and fine. if i have to be sick forever but have this life, then that is okay. every healthy minute is remembered, bookmarked and stuck in my pocket. every sick one is made better by knowing what surrounds me.
i am loved and i love.
i do not need to ask for more than that.
i have what i need here.