The second I close my eyes and let go, I am in a little nook of the universe that is just for me. Walls on every side of my brain crumble down until I let anything and everything come to me. I am the most inevitably human in this moment. I see me for what I am, down to my truest form.  You allow for life’s ruminations, for great ideas, for the processing of the day's every moment (good and bad) Like a sponge taking in every ounce of dirty water, my brain soaks up the bitter aftertaste of the day. I close my eyes and feel my skull scatter, break into a million pieces as I remember. Everything I had mindlessly forgotten, going through the motions of the day, comes flooding back to me. Through the mindfulness of breath, I release. I simply let go. 

I hold onto this moment of quiet, as if time is a material thing I can hang onto. I try, I try, I try. I close my eyes, wishing, telling myself to not let it go. To notice what is encapsulated in this moment that I know at the pit of my stomach will disappear as fast as it came. Almost within reach, time slips from my fingertips. As I ponder life’s questions, as my mind wanders to the unimaginable, you are there, your comfort being something I can rely on.  I am me, just a soul in just a body. I am in my purest form, and you show me that that’s ok. As your calm cuts through the piercing noise from deep within my skull, you carry the weight of silence. For the only time in the day, I can breathe. You peel me down to my core, to my barest bones, to what makes me me. I am down to my truest self. I am nothing and everything.  In your moments of serene stillness, I am human.