Tomorrow will be a beautiful day

    Around this time last year, I was sitting in my roommate’s room (we were in a quad) watching a movie. A few nights ago, we watched the first episode of Bridgerton season 4. In a sort of weird turn of events, we ended up rooming again in a different (but BETTER) situation. It’s been really nice. She cares a lot about our room having soft pillows and scent plug-ins. She beautifies the world in a way I feel incapable of. It makes me feel cushioned and happy.

    I think it’s been a really weird transition sort of year, but I think I’m much happier than I was last year. Loss is hard, but we make it through. In a way, it’s sad. You want to stick in the loss forever. It feels almost wrong to move on and accept life as different and maybe even still beautiful, if not more beautiful. Does it bastardize love? If it does, maybe that’s ok.

    After a mold situation, I learned I love nice things. I love having sharp nail clippers and a toothbrush cover that snaps together with ease. I love perfume that smells sweet, and coconut lotion after a shower with tropical bodywash. I love colorful eyeshadow and sparkles and the way mascara makes my eyes look. I want to treat myself better.

    Once upon a time, I believed in unyielding love, love that withstands all. I think I forgot self-respect. I sort of love my old self for that. It was beautifully (and recklessly) selfless. Now I want to put myself before and above all things. I want a year, a life, full of beautiful things and beautiful people, and myself to be a beautiful person who treats herself with kindness. Every night, I tell myself how wonderful the next day will be, and often it is.

    So, tomorrow will be a wonderful day. Tomorrow will be a lovely day. Tomorrow will be a beautiful day.