it was too wonderful for me.

Creative writing assignment: Begin a piece of writing with the sentence "it was too wonderful for me"

It was too wonderful for me. I was full, full of something unrecognizable. I allowed myself to appreciate the sky. Walking back to my postage stamp of a room at three in the morning I allowed my gaze to find its way up. Stars were not normal. I was clearly not normal. My normal so long ago had swiftly become a hole of over-analytical self-involvement. I wasn’t living anymore. [Had I ever been living?]

It seemed to be almost unfair that I had all this good all at once.

The best of it all was that there was a constant undertone, a small layer of doubt underneath the surface. This doubt grounded me in the same way all the wonderful was trying to pull me up. Was I odd for still appreciating and embracing failure above all things? Failure taught me the wonderful lessons.

Failure is teaching me.

Now, it is a slew of old pictures that have a way of making me feel incredibly full and desolate at the same time. These pictures remind me of what was, and thankfully not what could be. Now, there is no backtracking. It is full speed ahead, like one of those expensive bullet trains they want to build back at home.

This is the feeling I like though. This is the feeling I feel right before something big happens, something substantial. I never know exactly what it is but this time I feel as though this is the thing I have been waiting for sense the last time I looked up at the sky, I mean really looked, which was far too long ago to even remember clearly.

I no longer feel as though I have a pile of rocks settled somewhere between my throat and my stomach. I do not miss things anymore. Missing things as much as I did use to be cathartic. No more.

It was too wonderful. Now it is just going to be wonderful.

It is simple that way.