I didn't see you today. Some days I feel exhausted, and I lie in bed hoping that when I open my eyes, you wont appear. Maybe if I hold my morning yoga pose longer, or pick my music just right, you wont come into view.
I didn't miss you, I barely even thought about you-and it was incredible. The weight on my chest that you put there was nearly gone. I'm not sure where it went, but I hope that it merely dissipated; I would hate to transfer that emotion on to somebody else in order to save myself.
Oftentimes I'm conflicted between missing you, hating you, and cherishing you. You've changed the way the world looks to me, and am able to open up to complete strangers. We find solace in our shared romance with you, and we smile and roll our eyes at certain thoughts, and shake our heads looking at the ground on other memories.
You can be so cruel to the unsuspecting, jumping around a corner and latching on so quickly. Why do you feel so heavy? Like a wool coat soaked by a torrential downpour, or a roof bending under a winter snow.
Though you may be crippling, confusing, and dark, you have changed the view of the world for many. You have taken lives and destroyed households, but in your wake, you have left the light on for others. The art you have inspired is countless and diverse, and one could argue you are a rival to love, death, and faith.
Despair, depression, my dearest darkness that has been called so many things, I did not miss you today. I fear, however, that you have missed me. I am sure you will soon be back, and each step I take will drag you like a shadow behind me.
But until then, I shall dance without you.
Good night.