I’m having a difficult time releasing the weekend. I desperately want to go back and relive those days in my own euphoric version of Groundhog Day. The appeal? Well, there wasn’t anything particularly remarkable about it; nothing otherworldly transpiring nor spectacular. They were just carefree and peaceful days. And for the first time, in a long time I felt completely liberated and at ease.
They weren’t days spent peering over my shoulder or watering down fleeting moments of paranoia. I wasn’t confined solely to my bedroom and enjoyed the freedom of roaming about. I did what I wanted and all without reason and sans explanation. I was living in a state of blissful serenity. So at peace that I hadn’t even noted it until Sunday night whilst I was getting dinner ready for one. That delicious calmness within my soul, how light I felt as I walked and how wide my smile truly was. I relished those feelings intensely.
It was a revelation which sadly brought me undone, filling me with dysphoria. Because this is what life is about, this is how life should be lived. This was what I truly wanted yet it all felt so unattainable, abstract and purely fictional.
Simple pleasures and freedom are what I crave most. Living independently, doing what I want under my own roof without question or judgement. To be completely independent and to have my own place. A space where I can be unashamedly me. Where I can work freely, laugh jovially and dance about like no one is watching because no one is watching.
Take me back please.