The clothes are sprawled along the bed, bubbling over in the laundry baskets, the sheets are pulled off the mattress, the books disheveled along the desk. I am sitting in the midst of a war zone. Fresh carpets, cozy robe, weary eyes, and sinking thoughts. I recap the course of the day. I think of the future. I sigh. I need a glass of water, and a shot of espresso. This night has to be productive.
I remember my friends through the course of my life. I remember that old converse shoe. I remember the old Jack Daniels bottle in the corner of our kitchen cabinet, that no one knew I used to sneak swigs from late at night. I remember the days tip toeing out of the back of the building to meet up with friends right when class started. I remember the hours on the phone, biting my bottom lip, hoping for one thing, and one thing only. Love.
The mere sight of a smiling face, of good taste, of spending the day away with someone you knew so well and could share anything with. It made my toes curl in a way le petite mort never could.
I found a family that made me home sick. I found a voice that made me proud of myself. I found a path that no amount of money could ever afford you. Broken down honda, high gas blues, high heeled shoes, black bibles encased in briefcases, hands clapping, arms open, smiles broad, laughter hard. I bit my bottom lip realizing I was in the midst of what I had been searching for. No strings attached other than unrequited love as never an option. I learned how to open my hands and stop hiding behind the computer screen. I learned how to pray, how to laugh, and I still am. I learned how to let go. I am learning how to give. I am loving like I never knew how. I am changing in ways I never saw. I am lifting barriers I didn't know existed. Life is not about the American Dream. It is not about finding the best job. It is for me about acknowledging the God that gave you oxygen to breathe, and giving back to him, because we can never possibly give him all he gives us. I cry when I think so many don't take the time to pray, or ask why is the earth so organized? Why are we so intricately made? Symmetrically designed proportionate beings with minds capable of building up and tearing down just about anything, and yet we know so little?
I am walking on a sidewalk, literature in hand smiling. I am flying far away. I am letting things go. I know we all have to move, and I have beg you to forgive me if I have hurt you. We each must make choices. I have found one that brings me greater joy than any human alone ever could.
