….you’re the lucky ones. ‘Cause most of us are heaving through corrupted lungs. “
My best friend always tells me to take deep a breath when panic seizes my brain. Occasionally, I forget.
My boyfriend found me not breathing at short intervals of nights after tiresome days. He said it’s a sleeping disorder that could be fixed if I go to see a doctor. I do not like seeing doctor.
When I go running, I am very much aware of my breathing. After a while, the vital thing that keeps me moving is not my feet but my breathing. It is simply fundamental.
“And if you’re in love, then you are the lucky one..”