Alive

I’ve spent an hour staring at this page, typing intros and deleting them, all with a different idea- but every time I get through the introduction and realize that that’s not what makes me feel alive. Sitting here in the Halford Common room with the girl I love, laughing with her and listening to music as we struggle through homework and take breaks to talk about life and hopes and dreams- this is where I’m in my element. I’m most alive when I let life wash over me and just try and experience it as it comes. The thing that makes me feel most alive is simply living. Living in the moment hasn’t always been something I could enjoy. I’ve struggled for so long with anxiety and depression that years of my life have been clouded with a need to escape, but as I recover and get stronger and healthier living comes easier to me. Trying to think about what specifically makes me feel alive feels like it’s taking away from how far I’ve come. I don’t need something outstanding to make me feel alive. It’s when I’m drinking coffee with my cousin, or when I’m driving my brother to practice with the windows down in the dead of winter. It’s the rush I get when her hand brushes mine, the way my heart speeds up when she bites her lip in concentration. It’s the grin on my face as I open a package from my best friend who lives 1,240 miles away, or my side pressed against my sister’s as we lay on my bed and laugh. Passing notes in class, ranting to teachers, the shock of cold air against my face as I exit a building- all of these things make me feel alive. Life is happening all around me, if I only stop to pay attention.