They say that it is always the last stretch that's most difficult. My heart is tired of the pressure I place on it to be okay. I want to be okay. I feel I'm nearly there. I am nearly healed from the wounding that I have mostly inflicted upon myself. My healing style is very chill. I let time pass and pick up lessons here and there, insights gleaned from the drudgery and wonder of daily life. But at this point, I want to speed it up already. I'm growing impatient.

Good things have surfaced from this time, though. I have learned what I want and don't want out of life, out of my relationships, out of myself and how I interact with people. I am not angry anymore. I understand that people make mistakes. I made mistakes -- chronic ones. I didn't know I was making them until it was too late. I am confronted by the things I have done and not done that must have fucked people up. But that's done. I think I know how to avoid them from now on and prevent myself from getting hurt and hurting people in that way.

More recently, I have learned to say no to things and yes to some. Most things are a no. I want to say more yeses, but so far nothing has inspired me to engage more fiercely and enthusiastically with whatever it is others would think I should engage with. That's the thing with authenticity: I can't bullshit myself that I'm having a good time and everything's okay anymore. When I know something's not right or something's contrived, I no longer playfully banter to make things seem alright. I no longer scramble to come up with look-at-the-bright-side ideas. I'm okay for things to be what they are, even if it means they're boring or awkward or sad. I don't worry and obsess as much, so that's good.

I want to be excited about projects and things and people again, though. So far, everything falls short. My feelings fall short. Everything just seems muted, blunt, meh. I've grown used to it, but I'm also scared it will stay like this forever.

My brother got a dog, so there's that. I love that dog. I never knew four stubby paws, a ball of muscly fur, and dopey eyes can make me feel inexplicably buoyant.