Live Life like a Song.

I am not afraid of storms, for I am learning how to sail my ship.| She/Her

[rushingby-slowly]

The thing is that I want a life with you.

I want a life with you and I am terrified.

The thing you said? About being afraid you’re going to pull the rug out from under me? I feel that all of the time.

Especially when you go days without talking to me.

I want a life with you but I need to know you won’t disappear when it’s hard to have that life. I need to know you’re not just here when it’s convenient. I need to know where you stand.

And this whole not answering or even acknowledging me? That’s not helping. Not one bit.

[rushingby-slowly]

I think my life would be much easier if I could just clone myself.

And one version of me could stay here and be the perfect daughter and keep my job and find a way to be content here.

And the other version could leave for the life she would rather be living like she wants to without having to disappoint anyone. She could be the person she wanted to, with the people she wants to, and nobody would be hurt. There would be no dramatic conversations no earth shattering change. No moments of doubt. No anger or disappointment.

It’s sad to think this way. It’s complicated and sad.

I’m going to be 28 this coming year, and what am I doing? What do I have to show for any of it, really?

Sometimes I’m not sure I really do. I feel wildly behind and like the chance to catch up is getting further and further away.

[rushingby-slowly]

Talking to you is just easy.

I love how we can jump from topic to topic to topic. I love how it just flows. I love that we rarely have the same perspective on a conversation but we try to frame it as the other person would see it. I love how it’s not a struggle to think of what or how to say anything.

[rushingby-slowly]

I like driving around with you.

I like listening to the music you like and how you sing along.

I like when you drum your fingers on the wheel. I like how your mouth twitches up when a song starts that’s a favorite.

[rushingby-slowly]

Laying on the couch, freshly showered with wine and a documentary.

Wine you bought just because you know I like it, in case I might want a glass.

Just laughing and watching and being together. Not worried about anything or anyone else. Not worried at all. Just existing.

I don’t know many times I have just laid in contentment. Without a thousand things running in my head. I don’t know how often I find peace in quiet moments with another person.

But with you, I could have sat there for hours on end just listening to your heartbeat. I could have laid on that couch for ages.

[rushingby-slowly]

I don’t want to beg to be loved.

[rushingby-slowly]

It’s crazy how now how every touch is fucking electric.

Like before it was butterflies and goosebumps on occasion, but maybe I was just so comfortable it wasn’t a thrill anymore. It just felt comfortable.

Now it’s like my skin was starving for it and every time you brush your hand near mine it’s a shock. You touched my knee and I swore sparks came off the spot.

Or even just seeing you how it makes me beam. I couldn’t stop smiling while I was walking up- tried to play it cool but absolutely not my style.

It’s exciting. It’s like the beginning but without the jitters. It’s the comfort of someone you have loved for 6 years mixed with the excitement of a new start.

Can we keep it like this? Can it stay good and fun and light like this?

Can we do this without anyone getting hurt?

[rushingby-slowly]

I am the queen of settling for love kernels.

Maybe it’s a lack of self respect. Maybe it’s mayballiene.

I should be smarter, I should be better at this point. Better at protecting myself and my heart.

I’m not. It’s the problem every fucking time.

And I just take what I can get. I live for the hope of it all. And hope beyond reason that someday it becomes more.

[rushingby-slowly]

I am not a fan of living in limbo.

I hate the radio silence the not knowing.

The assuming it must be the worst but not knowing for sure. The not knowing and still having hope and knowing if it isn’t what you’re hoping for that hope is going to be blown to pieces.

Why can’t you just call? Just say what you mean and what you want.

[rushingby-slowly]

I think I’d give up a lot to be with you.

In any context.

And that’s so hard and so sad.

[rushingby-slowly]

People ask “how are you” but what if we started answering in super honest ways? Like uncomfortably honest?

“How are you?” Well I’m not crying every day anymore, I don’t sob uncontrollably for hours over little things. I either feel everything or nothing at all and fuck if I know which is worse. I am trying very hard to stay focused on a future full of hope but it also gives me severe anxiety to think about- like my chest feels tight and panicked.

I haven’t had a day where you didn’t cross my mind no matter how much I didn’t want you to. I haven’t had a day where I didn’t wish I could hear your voice, hold your hand. It feels sometimes like I have to remind myself it really happened because some days I stop believing that. I feel so separate from myself and the world and my life and I can’t seem to figure out how I reconnect to it. Or maybe I shouldn’t- maybe that disconnect is protecting me right now.

I’m not okay but I am standing upright so that counts for something. I want to crawl under the covers most mornings and refuse to come out again but I don’t- instead I get up and I face the day. I live and breathe and eat and laugh and do all of the things I am expected to whether I really want to or not. I do everything I can to focus on anything else but that never seems to make a difference but I keep my brain as occupied as I can.

The most honest answer I give is “I’m here” or “I’m just chugging along.” I’m existing. I am doing what I can everyday.

[rushingby-slowly]

Best thing that’s ever been mine.

[rushingby-slowly]

I save voicemails.

Why? I have no idea. I don’t re-listen to them all. I don’t check them often.

I think I just like having them there. Knowing I can. Knowing a piece of somewhere else, some other time, still exists.

It’s romantic or it’s sad. Who can really tell the difference.

[rushingby-slowly]

I found a photo of myself from 2018.

One I didn’t even know was taken, I know the night in question. I had my photos of the night, it was a good one. Nothing dramatic or negative to report. Fun, happy.

My final semester had just started. I was getting ready for what was coming next- except I really had no clue what was next. I had applied for the DCP, started student teaching, been cast in Antigone. I had lost my best friend, I had met someone I was going to fall head over heels for. Most of my close friends had graduated except for one. I wasn’t going to university theatre meetings anymore because it stopped feeling like home. I was in Swing Dance. I was working at South Campus. We had trespassed on a lavender farm.

But so much hadn’t happened yet. I couldn’t have predicted all that was still coming. I’m not sure if I had told this version of myself what was next if I would have believed it, if I would have laughed or run screaming.

It’s just a black & white photo from the roof of the parking garage. I’m looking off, at the street below. You can’t see my face but I imagine it’s calm. I always liked the parking garage.

Maybe I’m feeling a little sad- that had been a spot of a lot of nostalgia. Maybe I was already missing the moment I was in (very me thing to do).

Maybe I was happy. Maybe I was feeling excited and anticipating the future for once and feeling positive.

Maybe I was trying to just be in that moment. With my friends on the roof of that parking garage. In a place I loved. With people I loved who loved me.

I can’t know for sure. But I think of that 22 year old and how she expected life to turn out. Or maybe more accurately how she didn’t really expect it to- she was shocked we made it to 22 at all. I think she’d be floored that we’re inching closer to 27.

There’s so much I would say to her, or maybe I wouldn’t. Maybe that’s the control freak in me thinking of how I could have changed things.

Mainly I think if I could go back, I would just want to take more moments to appreciate it all. I wish I had stopped more often and soaked it in. I wish I had held moments like it more closely.

Sure there are things I would change, things I wouldn’t have focused so heavily on, things I would have let go of sooner, things I should have done sooner. But if I’m honest- I don’t have many regrets about college. And even the ones I do regret I think I can chalk up to experience and learning.

That 22 year old feels really far away anymore. I’m okay not being her anymore but I wish I felt her a little more often. She’s a different piece of me, bruised up & broken in a different way, but she was still standing, on that ledge.

[rushingby-slowly]

“Heartbeats are a funny thing. The body’s language of choice. Thousands of wordless signals passed through the skin.”

I think I knew I loved you when I could feel my heartbeat calm down around you.

Early on- before everything really- you used to lay your head on my chest and tease me about the sound. The constant boom, the hammer, the hummingbird frequency.

You’d ask the question without really asking. Why when just laying my body was in full on fight or flight.

I had stopped trusting back then. I thought trusting meant being let down. Loving meant allowing yourself to be broken. I would lay with you and all I could think was how it couldn’t last. It couldn’t be good and easy like this, it couldn’t be anything except hurt. My body was ready for the worst.

I’m not sure when my heartbeat stopped doing that. But I remember noticing one day how we were laying in the quiet, holding each other, and I could hear our heartbeats in sync. Calm, steady beats.

Nobody ever gave me that calm. I never had that peace. Every time I felt love before, it was still packed with anxiety. It was butterflies and panic and extremes. It wasn’t peace.

I think we are taught that love is supposed to feel like that anxiety all of the time. I think we think we are supposed to be constantly at that 10.

But I think I knew it was love when that wasn’t it anymore. Where it felt steady. Reliable. Strong.

I think it was love when I could relax. Where I could trust it was real. Where I could be sure of you.

And yes- you still gave me butterflies. At your smile, when you’d kiss me. When you were the first thing I saw when I woke up. But that was nothing compared to how you made me feel safe. You made me feel like it was okay. I was okay. We were okay.

[rushingby-slowly]

I had a fucking partner.

I had a partner in life. I had someone I could call when shit like this was happening. I had someone who was on my side. I wasn’t fucking alone. I’m fucking alone right now.

I’m so tired of this. I’m tired of feeling like this and being alone.

And I fucking hate this. I hate that I can’t call you. I can’t talk to you. I can’t because you’re a fucking stranger now.

It’s bullshit. My life is bullshit.

[rushingby-slowly]

This year just has made me feel like I don’t know anything at all like I thought I did.

I feel like the last few months have made a fool out of me. Everything I was sure of, everything I thought I knew, everything I stopped questioning, everything I stopped doubting.

It’s just funny. I’m not sure what lesson I’m supposed to learn. Don’t trust anything? Never think you can feel safe in anything? Never stop looking over your shoulder? Never stop thinking about that fucking clock ticking and ticking and ticking?

Okay, I don’t know anything. I’m not sure of anything. I don’t feel safe in anything. I will never trust that I can again. I’ll never have confidence of knowing anything about myself.

Is that all? Is that what I’m supposed to promise here? Fucking fine.