Quick, contact the authorities. You’ve surely beat the world record for holding your breath. How long’s it been since you took in a proper lungful of fresh, cool, clean, refreshing air? A few months, at least. Whatever constrictive force has restrained you from truly breathing and relaxing is about to let up, whether it’s a self-inflicted emotional corset or a predatory metaphorical boa constrictor. Your ribs might crack, and it might hurt to draw in that first delicious breath—but you’ll know it’s the good kind of hurt. Yawn, gasp, sigh, and pant—and know that things will have to be at least a little easier from now on.
Even if it is just self fulfilling prophecy leading me in the above-stated direction, I will take whatever release that the Universe has to offer.
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