Modes of containment. 

It was almost sunset. As I looked out of the window, I noticed that the sky was beginning to fade into shades of gray, lifeless with only a few clouds waiting for the resurfacing of the moon. That was my favorite part of the day. I always found it to be the most comforting, sitting in front of the window as the decline of another day took over that house.

The room was quiet, but I felt the presence of something around me. I sat in my chair for a few minutes to allow the sensations in my mind to contain the feeling before I let it pass. I decided to hold onto it, whatever it was, as I stared out of the window. 

I like the quiet, but it is almost never quiet. When I do find silence in between my modes of containment, I find myself looking for something to conceal it. I stood up to open the window without even realizing it. The cool air brushed against my hand through the screen. I suddenly was reminded of the past when I used to go for walks alone during the warm summer evenings. I remembered the way I used to feel. It was nothing like this. I guess when I lost the pieces of myself, I also lost something more. I lost my harmony - the harmony that binds my body and soul.