Before I Dance Again

As I sit and wait for my body to heal, the words of a friend keep echoing in my mind:

“You’ll probably never fully recover, and everything is going to get harder.”

Fuck you!

Those aren’t words I want living in my head. How do I come back from that?

I keep reminding myself: one step at a time.

As pain floods my body, self-doubt creeps in like a thief in the night—because the nights are the worst, and being afraid of the dark doesn’t help.

I sleep sitting up, and it’s nearly that time again.

I look for distractions. I could listen to some heavy metal, but I can’t dance to it. Actually, I can’t dance at all right now.

I need to sleep so that tomorrow has a chance to be better—regardless of how long it takes before I dance again.