There's beauty in the breakdown

I'm crying so hard as I write this but it's not a sad cry, for the first time in a long. I was talking to my friend E tonight and she asked me what my favorite class had been and I told her art history and explained why and got to talking all my art geek stuff. And I remembered the first time I ever saw a Van Gogh in person. And I started crying because it's just such a perfect, beautiful memory. And it made me remember so many other things, the first time I ever really painted, the first time I saw Rent, the first time I ever realized I could put words together and make them beautiful, the first I ever took a picture that was something more than just a snapshot, something special. All those things are tied up together in my mind, in some way. I'm not saying I'm ever going to be a great artist. I know I'm not that talented, and that's not like, a lack of self esteem talking, that's just reality. But the word is so full of beauty and for a little bit I forgot that. I couldn't see it through everything that was wrong with my life. But I remember now. She gave me the most amazing gift, because she gave all of that back to me. Because I can see it again, how beautiful the world is. And I know, I've always known, that as long as I can see that, I'm going to be just fine.