saturday mornings like these

i remember when i was a young 20 years old
i discovered how to be alone yet
not be lonely

but before then
i did not know how

i would wait in my dorm room
writhing in pain until i was in the presence of another human being
i was a proclaimed extravert
just constantly and consistently dying for human connection

but i was distracted
i did not know how to be alone with my thoughts
or how to make sense of
anything going on in my head

and it was at a young 20 years old
i would sit in my 7×12 little bedroom
smaller than many American closets
but with three windows covering one wall to the east
and learn to revel in my aloneness

it was there
in that little room
where i learned the immense joy of looking out a window
i learned to sit in my bed
for hours at a time
and listen to music that
made me feel things

i learned to hold a hot cup of tea in my hands
on saturday mornings
and just be happy at the warmth of it all
just to be enamored with the miracle of living

i learned how to let myself feel
to listen to my own goings on
and to let those be important
to let my thoughts hold weight

and yet in those mornings
i also felt such a deep love
for those people around me
day after day
perhaps even greater
than when i required being surrounded
by another for my happiness

so i think it is me
loving myself
giving myself time and space to feel
when i love others most

and it is on saturday mornings like these
i brew my coffee
become captivated by the way
an avocado looks cut in half
and recall that sacred falling in love
that took place
in my tiny little room