First of March

I used to think that I was the living dead, feelings and nerve endings numbed by the dullness in my head. I still sort of think that sometimes. That is, until a boy talks to me. I feel the blush creep into my cheeks and glow brightly when that happens. Or when I stand on the edge of the board, ready to dive into the freezing cold water, and having only one single thought in my head when I jump off. Those moments though, are few and far between. I can’t help but think that my being awake and moving is a complete and total accident. (Note: substitute awake and moving with alive.)