You realize in 15 days, what you never could, in all those 120 days of working.
15 days of not having a job or rent money or a backup or any kind of plan and still choosing to stay rather than giving it up all and running back where you started from.
14 days of feeling a searing helplessness inside yourself as your bank account stares at you with a fat zero in your face.
13 days of trying to sell yourself out on a piece of paper which fails to identify with you as closely as it rather should.
12 days of taking rejections in your face and not bending the knee.
11 days of clinging on to a tiny voice inside you that keeps reiterating, everything will fall back in place.
10 days of drowning in your own mess, while trying to breathe through your sudden seizures and emotional downpours. Additionally, you learn what insomnia feels like.
9 days of having forgotten, how looking up at the sky and guzzling the sun, felt like.
8 days of not knowing where you’re going, not knowing where you’ve come.
7 days of nurturing your grit and learning to believe in yourself, though learning it the hard way.
6 days of making wild acceptances of your truth and making peace with what now is, rather than regretting what then used to be.
5 days of working hard, chasing opportunities and decoding your self worth all along the way.
4 days of catching new possibilities blossom while you stand at a crossroads yet again, wrestling with your indecisiveness, bubbling with a hunger to leap in all of the directions beckoning you to explore them.
3 days of setting foot in new shoes and walking on, though knowing inside that they are the same old feet who will wander off, wherever they want, and not where they are made to.
2 days of relearning to look at the sky the same way again, and flashing the sun, an overwhelming smile, across all those lightyears in between.
1 day of buzzing overwhelmingly with new expectations, standing at the plinth of your new beginnings, not afraid of the fall, now that you’ve already uncovered what the bottom feels like.