So, it seems increasingly likely The Thing isn’t going to happen.
(Okay, we can talk about it: honestly, I was trying to skip town and perform at an international theme park for a year. I am nothing if not terribly predictable.)
I am contending now with the reality of staying. Of moving forward even if my feet do not physically touch down on another part of the planet. Because, honestly, I just might not be able to afford moving away anytime soon.
(I haven’t given up hope entirely. I look at Chicago job listings not infrequently…)
Sometimes it just hurts too much to be here, and I’m sorry to tell you that. I’m sorry to confess that I spent a good deal of last night buried into my pillow, choking out sobs. It’s just a thing that happens, it’s okay, I promise. I’m okay. I have deadlines and ideas and probably more hope than I recognize. I’m okay.
But I’m also really sad and tired, and I dream of something like a rest. Sometimes I don’t think I’ll ever let myself rest while I’m still here, so I think a lot about going somewhere else.
I didn’t go out of state for college, never studied abroad… I’ve never really had the chance to roll up all shiny and faux-confident into a new city with an aura of mystique about me. I’ve never had the chance to not be the crying kid at the box office. I’d just like a day to go by before you figure out what a wreck I am.
I long to breathe different air.
There are so many things I have always felt too scared to do and leaving is one of them. My truest fear is being forgotten. And I finally don’t think that’s a thing that actually happens when you love someone, so I think that means it’s time to take this longing seriously.
(You are all songs, but these are the lyrics in my head the most right now:
If you’re lost, you can look and you will find me
Time after time
If you fall, I will catch you, I will be waiting
Time after time)
I know I’ve said too much. I know my big mouth is a problem. So, I need to get out of here and word-vomit where it can’t hurt anyone, I think. Because I need to keep talking. I feel like I’ll explode if I can’t.
I feel lost, so- fuck me- I feel like I need to go find myself.
But please know the biggest fantasy is in coming back. Is in presenting you with a happier, shinier version of myself. If you’ve already made up your mind about them, that’s totally fine, I get it. But you make me so happy and I want to go strengthen up, so I can prove it to you? I don’t know if that makes any sense. I long to go learn how to be strong and brave and good, and then I will come back with gifts and stories.
I’m gonna go learn how to fly. When I come home, I won’t be scared anymore to join you in the stratosphere.