Today is Different
She sat there, on the edge of her bed, with one palm on either side of her hips and her chin pointing upwards. The corner edges of her lips rose effortlessly, and her breath felt as fluid and as easy as the early morning breeze dancing through the opened window.
Today is different, she said to herself. She couldn’t quite place it, but there was something fresh about this particular morning. There was a shift deep inside her belly, and it was mirrored in the quietest corners of her heart.
But - nothing has changed since last night, or the night before that, she thought, expecting this realization to dampen her spirits. She was surprised to notice that a cause didn’t matter — she felt no compulsion to understand this moment. For whatever reason, she had awoken alight with possibility and freedom.
Sure, there was still a full day of work ahead of her and there were no new friends or men or acquaintances to distract herself with. There were no new commitments or plans or responsibilities to help her evade the loneliness that encroached on her days like sudden rainstorms in the springtime.
Yet there it was, as undeniable as her own heartbeat, a tickle of excitement and the faint smell of change.
Whatever happened next, and whenever it arrived, she knew without question it was meant to be. She was blooming like the tulip bulbs she’d planted at the end of last spring. She’d been buried under pressure for as long as she could remember, and after years of working tirelessly, she had secured her own roots. Today, of all days, she was finally ready to open herself up to the world around her.
