January, in Frames
January didn’t arrive with answers.
It came in pieces.
Morning light.
Moving days.
Moments I almost skipped saving because they felt too ordinary.
Some days moved slowly.
Some passed without asking permission.
There were pauses. There was noise. There were quiet wins no one clapped for.
This month lived in between things.
Between tired and hopeful.
Between holding on and letting go.
Between “I’m fine” and “I need to slow down.”
Days layered themselves into a feeling.
Soft. Uneven. Real.
If January were a movie, it wouldn’t be loud.
No big plot twists.
Just scenes you only understand once they’re over.
And maybe that’s enough.
To remember how it looked.
How it moved.
How it felt to still be here, frame by frame.
