The sky was pink this morning. I walked on your side of the street. I stopped to watch three pigeons pick at pieces of bread. I walked past your door, careless as to whether or not your doorman saw me, despite the fact that he'd definitely remember my face. After I passed your threshold, I smiled. I conquered you. I don't know where you are in the healing process; hell, maybe you never really loved me, even if you thought you did, thus rendering healing unnecessary for you. I have no way to know, and I no longer care. I crossed the street to the deli where I'd be working for the day. Just then, I watched a black lab sprint to me- no, GALLOP- carrying her own leash in her mouth in the purest moment of joy I've ever seen. There were no cars on the road, so I didn't mind, and almost celebrated the fact that she was running free. I was happy to be happy and to be around happiness. I knew in the pink morning that I am going to be ok.
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