I am now living in my 19th year in this realm. My skin is still pink, still lacy and bumpy and I still get goosebumps every once in a while. Still feels a little numb on the fuzzy days. I still get nosebleeds. I still don’t know why. If you were to ask me again a few months ago, I would have said “two years of my life were robbed from me.”

I’ve been a woman for a year and a half now. Yet I still feel as though I’m slowly regressing. In hopes of bringing my childhood back to me. The dandelions aren’t ready to be blown yet. The wind is waiting though. The bath is still cramped. The grass is still wet. And the mornings are still misty. And the birds still chirp. And the sun still wakes me up. The mist is still my lover, but so is the sunshine. The grass creeps up on me. The trees envelope me.

Maybe life hasn’t changed that much.Yes, I have new bruises. And yes, I have new scars. But the grass is still here. The sun still wakes me up. The wind still blows in my ear; the birds still chirp. The sunshine still holds me. Maybe that’s what matters most. Maybe that’s what I need. Maybe that’s all I’ll ever need.