I see signs everywhere. I don’t look for them, but they seem to be around anyway. Maybe I try to notice them.
Whenever anything was about to go wrong with The Boy and I, the song “Bring me Some Water” by Melissa Etheridge would follow me around. I’d change stations; it’d still be there. Every day, at least twice or three times, I would hear it.
I haven’t heard it once since we split up. Not once.
Whenever I felt down, or things weren’t going too well, I would look for the hot-air balloons that you can see coming round Yarra Bend on the Eastern Freeway. Every morning, they would be there, and sometimes I could still see them as I waited at Smith Street for a tram. The days when I felt the worst, they seemed to be lower, and larger in my sight. And instead of linking that with anything that was wrong, they seemed to me to be a sign that good things were coming.
Yesterday morning walking to work from the station, four huge balloons filled my sight. Huge, low, moving at speed. Moving with me, instead of away from me. I whipped out my camera, and hurried along, taking photos between the powerlines. But I just couldn’t get that sense of vastness on camera. They seemed so small in the viewfinder, yet when I looked up, they were all I could see.
It probably seemed nothing to other people, this girl with the camera, hurrying along the road with the balloons at her back. But to me it was a sign. That things haven’t always been great, won’t always be great, but I will always be able to find the signs in life that point towards a better day.
And my god, am I lucky. I can see the balloons. I can feel the joy at simply seeing them, as they laze through the air. I can look at them and be thankful. I have nothing but things to be thankful for, right now.
Nothing at all.
3 days ago