I was out walking the other day, just trying to clear my head, when a white dog came barreling down the boardwalk. No leash. No owner in sight. It looked exactly like mine. For a second, I thought it was my dog. I tried to catch it, but it kept running. He was fast, and he was lost.

It was one of those moments where the outside world mirrors something happening inside you, and you don’t even realize it until later.

Because the truth is, I’d already been thinking about that feeling of being untethered. I wasn’t a wreck or falling apart, but I think I’d slowly lost my anchor recently without even noticing. Holding things together, kind of. Functioning, mostly, but at the same time, wondering if “I’m okay” still means what I think it means.