It's been a year now since I first came back to New Orleans. A whole year, and only a year. This Thanksgiving was much more...thanks-filled? Last year's circumstances were so different. I was forced to be thankful just like I was forced to leave all sense of normalcy forever. Yes, my family and I made it out of a horrible natural disaster relatively unscathed. Yes, I was temporarily accepted to a wonderful school in a wonderful city. Yes, people were so generous and kind and genuinely took care of me. So much to be thankful for, and yet, I didn't want to be thankful. I was angry and confused and wounded, and more than anything, I just wanted to hate the world. But I couldn't. I couldn't hate anything because I was supposed to be thankful.
This year I had a choice, and oh, what a difference it has made.
I stopped writing a while back. It's been nearly two semesters since I've written anything non-academic (and even that, if I'm being honest with myself, hasn't been all that academic). I don't know what I'm waiting for. I don't know why I'm still holding my breath. Have I forgotten how to exhale?
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