An endless stream of cars in the city. Highways knot themselves into ever-moving strands, glowing through a thick haze of dust and pollution.

There, in the heart of all this chaos, a girl sits on a windowsill, breathing in the winter air, a brief respite from the claustrophobia in her own mind. She is battling the emotions inside her, the restlessness that has kept her awake this late at night.

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I think I am finally awake.

I have lived the limited years of my life so far on someone else’s terms – overthinking constantly, rehearsing my actions, measuring my words meticulously in the cup of propriety, endlessly trying to prove myself and tripping over my own expectations.

Even love comes in restraints, held back by fear and muffled by the weight of expectations.

I don’t want to live like that anymore.

I want to wake up and live on my own terms – recklessly, honestly, and without apology. I want to be able to say things without rehearsing them into exhaustion.

I want to be able to pull that person unimaginably close without hesitation, head emptying of everything but the warmth of that feeling.

Is it so bad to want to stop rationing my love and intensity of feeling?

Yours truly,
Divi