“I’m sad,” I said⁣

“Winter is sad,” my mom said. “But it isn’t that time yet.”⁣

“I’m sad,” I said⁣

My sister did not reply⁣

My father said, “I know, I just try to think of happier things, and stay happy.. you know?”⁣

I don’t know if I know ⁣

I know that like clockwork, Thanksgiving approaches and my body reminds me that I lost my brother 8 years ago like it was yesterday ⁣

The center of my body tightens, grips itself⁣

It reminds me that every death happens in the winter⁣

the boy I had a crush on⁣
my yiayia⁣
my pappou⁣

no family togetherness during the holidays, because my parents separated⁣

my brother⁣

I think, I should be writing⁣

But my body does not want to write about pleasure or sex⁣

So I give up on her⁣

I think, I should do practices. I should process this more⁣

My body is heavy and does not move⁣

I think, I should buy more things for this apartment⁣

I think, I should cook⁣

I think, I should go to the gym⁣

I think, I do not want to do this, this year⁣

My body gets a sore throat⁣

This, finally, registers to my conscious mind. This is a signal, it points out. ⁣

We don’t avoid our body anymore. Remember?⁣

So I stop ⁣

I take multiple baths⁣

I soak in them for hours⁣
Each

I lie in bed⁣

I cry⁣

When I rest, my body opens a little⁣

She says, you’ve done so much processing, you’ve done beautiful work on yourself⁣

Sometimes there is a place for just allowing heaviness to be⁣

Pleasure in anguish, in grief ⁣

Pleasure in dissolving⁣

Allowing yourself to be in winter, as winter approaches⁣

And she reminds me that the goal was never to be full of energy all the time⁣

no matter what society claims⁣

“I’m sad,” I said. I let the tears roll down my cheeks, I let them see me. ⁣

“You’re allowed to be sad,” my friends said⁣

“I’m sad,” I said⁣

“I love you,” he said⁣