the before version of me looked… smaller, not physically but like the light inside had been turned way down, almost off, like i was conserving something, some kind of energy, and what a waste, right, to hoard a thing like that, a thing that’s meant to be given away, thrown all over the damn place like cosmo with his tennis ball, and i keep wondering if that’s what it is, that feeling, not happiness, not exactly, but… permission, to be as big and messy and LOUD as i actually am, without apologizing or shrinking or waiting for someone to tell me it’s okay, because it is, it just… is, and maybe that's all i had to learn, that the ocean doesn't give a damn about my permission slip, it's just going to keep rolling in, with or without me.