I should be writing this assignment — I am already one day late.
But I don't want to. I want to write here. I don't even know what I want to write.
I want to write that I am a woman. That I love being a woman. To be able to have life grow in me, to be able to face this world with dignity and to be able to treat my body like a temple.
I sometimes wonder what is wrong with me. I am just so in love with life and everything sometimes, for no particular reason at all. The world can be falling down around me, and I let it fall, I let it all burn, and I smile during the fall.
If it ends, let it end in a stunning display of sparkles.
And then one day, without even realising I had being falling, falling for a while now, one message, just a few words, from somebody whose face I had not seen for over a month; and I feel like somebody just caught me in their arms. I don't know for how long they will hold me, or if they will drop me now and I will keep on falling.
All I can do is smile and be happy, and not be afraid of what's around the corner.
I feel loved. At least one person, at least in words, tells me that they care about me a lot.
I just feel happy.