the way laughter can feel like holding your breath underwater. I remember laughter so hard I thought my ribs would crack, doubled over until I gasped. Now it's a quiet chuckle, more frequent, but the body-shaking joy feels like it belonged to another lifetime. There was a time when joy felt like a heist, something stolen and precious to be hidden away. Now it's sunlight through the trees, dappling the forest floor – still beautiful, still cherished, but freely given and received.