Bottle This Feeling

Sitting in the passenger seat of a car, make unknown. All you know is that this 'car' - if you can call it that - is big, is loud, is red, has no top and has a sub woofer under the passenger seat.

Riding down Washington Blvd, the wind in your hair, the night dark and mysterious, the car rattling you to the core. Instead of feeling anxious, this delights you. You search your heart for how you feel -- joyful, excited, hopeful, confident, fearless. And then you find it, the feeling you thought you'd lost forever. You feel sexy. You throw your head back and laugh.

You look at the man beside you -- almost a stranger, but not quite. You notice the crinkles around his eyes. Eyes that hold both humor and past hurt. You know that you will never see this man ever again, but you don't mind. Because for the last three hours he's shared some of his heart with you and you've been more of yourself than you've been in a long time. You are surprised by his vulnerability; you are surprised by yours.

This evening will end with a hug, a kiss on the cheek, you whispering, "You're so sweet." He will look slightly puzzled. You will smile. He will drive off, disappearing into the night. You will sit in your car; breathe deeply. You will feel something.
Savor this feeling. Bottle it, save it, remember it for later. For this is the feeling of depression lifting.