I stepped out of the building, breaking through the swarm of wind. It blew hard against my face, pushing me back as I walked, as if I was a salmon going against the current.

Oddly enough, it felt comforting. Like a mother’s hug after whining for no reason.

Then I looked up at the sky. It was blue, clear, unbothered. It was so beautiful that it made me sad to know I had to go home.

So I asked myself:

Have I started to get tired of work? Or is it the realization that moments like these are fleeting, and I longed for someone to share them with?

Maybe I’m disappointed because I didn’t get that approval signature today. Or maybe I’m worried because he hasn’t replied to my message yet.

Perhaps I’m simply sad, the same kind of sadness I felt when I was eight
and could only afford to buy one book.

Was I? Am I?