Zebra Seeking Spoons

There have been so many empty chairs
with my name written on them.

So many plans
that became apologies.

So many mornings
where hope packed my bag,
only for pain
to unpack it again.

I’ve watched life happen
through photos,
through stories,
through the glow of other people’s happiness
on a screen.

I wondered
if I would ever stop being
the person who almost made it.

But today…

Today my body whispered,
“I think we can try.”

So I gathered every spoon I had.
I packed my medications,
my braces,
my water bottle,
my backup plans,
and a quiet hope
I was almost afraid to believe.

I didn’t dance the longest.
I needed to sit.
I had to pace myself.
I knew every minute
was borrowed energy.

But I was there.

I heard the laughter
instead of imagining it.

I hugged the people
I’d been missing.

I made a memory
instead of mourning one.

To someone else,
it may have looked
like an ordinary afternoon.

To me,
it felt like crossing
a finish line
no one else could see.

Tomorrow
my body may ask me
to pay for today.

The pain may return louder.
The exhaustion may settle deep.

But even knowing that…

I would still choose this day.

Because chronic illness
has taken so many moments from me.

Today,
it didn’t win.

Today,
I showed up.

And after all the events
I had to grieve from afar,

those three simple words

I made it.

felt like a standing ovation
inside my soul.