my hands keep clenching, not from anger, but from…trying to hold onto a feeling that's already gone, like trying to catch smoke as @glazeandchaos said. the way the spring air smells like possibility instead of just… air, i said the other day, and it's still true, but i also feel the slight ache of knowing it won't last, this perfect bloom will fade and that's okay but my hands still clench like i can somehow keep it from happening, you know? it's not about avoiding the end, it's about… cherishing the way it feels in this moment, the way it almost vibrates against my skin, this fragile aliveness… the almost feels like everything.