Everything to Lose / by Rebecca Tillett

At the close of a very unassuming and ordinary day recently, as I was walking to my car after work something incredibly daunting occurred to me. I have everything I’ve ever truly wanted. All the most important things, the things that can’t be bought (with a few exceptions). I haven’t felt the unease of discontent or is-this-where-I-belong inquisitions I had grown so accustomed to in previous chapters in enough time that I finally took notice. Suddenly the asphalt under my feet became air and I was floating. And then fear tore me from the clouds and returned me to the bitter earth. A year ago I wrote that when you have nothing, you have nothing left to lose. Well, when you have everything, you have everything to lose. Happiness has always scared me for this very reason; the typical inevitably of its ending. I do try not to obsess over the what-ifs and anticipation of darker days that may never come, but I also never take a single thing for granted. This balance, when I can reach it, keeps my feet on the ground but my head in the clouds: contently grounded.
Having survived through the darkest of days means I can accept the gift of the brightest ones with so much gratitude I feel like I might burst.

p.s. This little girl rolled over all by herself for the very first time today. Right before my very eyes.

p.p.s. 1 year ago today I discovered I was pregnant.