"the First day of my Life"

As told in third person omniscient, past tense, in light of the Bright Eyes song, “the first day of my life”.
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She woke up that morning with new eyes. She watched the day unravel before her, as if independent of her. In this great spinning mass hurtling through emptiness, she became full. She was still while the ground spun beneath her feet, but she, in that world, could no longer resist the tumultuous insurrection that threatened her idea of everything she thought she ever knew, about anything. And it took over.

“This is the first day of my life”
On this day, all the things around her tenderly diminished into the background until there was only one thing in focus. There was only one thing worth seeing, in this cluttered world that solicited her attention. She had finally found the ONE thing that deserved to be seen amidst this expansive sea of unworthiness. She felt as if the ground had been swiftly pulled from under her feet, and when she spoke she could not hear her own words. She spoke not to speak, but to maintain the illusion that she was not completely and unconditionally plummeting through this sky from elation.

“…yours was the first face that I saw”
As if she’d never seen a face before, surprised, she reconsidered her faculty of sight altogether. Had she ever seen anything before? because surely there was nothing to be seen before this.

“…think I was blind before I met you”

She discovered the extent to which a person could be happy, and was convinced that she was the only person in the entire world that had achieved this level of joy. The extent of goodness resonating within a person, that one person can do so much for the other, to show her things she never thought she’d see. And it made her life sunny, in a new and strange way. She undeservedly indulged in the proposition. But it was extreme happiness juxtaposed against a quiescent sadness that permeated all things surrounding her, a sadness that emerged with every single ‘goodbye’.

And these feelings overwhelmed the previously shallow space within her chest, so all other things became secondary. The less important, daily emotions competed for supremacy, to interrupt for just a moment, the supreme bliss she was experiencing. And in those moments when the peripheral emotions invaded the overwhelming feeling of happiness, it was inundating and impossible for them to coexist. There was only room for one, and there was no vacancy any longer.

She was finally complete.