I don't know what it all means yet.
But teenage me, home from my first semester away at early college, with the radio on theoretically trying to fall asleep, heard The Most Beautiful Voice Ever (later identified as Freddie Mercury singing Bohemian Rhapsody) and something changed. A little at a time but also all at once.
Somewhere around Friday the 13th it happened again, that same magic I felt then. I saw and heard something beautiful (yes, it was Confessa/Diva Dance and the related skate, go ahead and laugh if you must, it meant something to me) and it sat with me and maybe instead of becoming a different person I went back to being who I was. I went back to being the person who could delight in that.
I'm actually writing again (yeah, if you know my fannish blog, there are Things being worked on) and for the first time in...probably six or seven years it feels like there's power behind the words, like I'm not just going by rote to string the damn anything together because I have an assignment I've pledged to fill.
I'm making playlists again, mostly one that is related to what I'm writing but there is probably another coming soon. And in addition to being fannish-relevant they are also reminding me of the friends I had, the friends I still have.
It's so good to be capable of feeling this kind of enchantment again. But it's also...lonely, in ways I'm not sure I'm ready to talk about. Both because it's hard to explain the things I feel in ways that make sense outside my head, and because I'm very self-conscious about feeling like I'm not good at being creative. Sometimes I can get there with writing. I wish I could with music. I'm married to someone whose instinctive talent ran immediate circles around my ten years of professional lessons and anything I can produce feels like ugly tone-deaf noise in comparison so I just. Don't. Even when I want to, even though I miss it.
I'm just feeling very broken open and raw right now. About so many things. Still processing.