I used to pray that I’d never be loved by
anyone I couldn’t love back,
but then I remembered how many mountains
I grew strong enough to climb when
you didn’t love me back
and I realized that
there’s no use in praying for
the absence of pain
because it will always find you
whether it be through sunburn or aching silence
and broken bones grow back stronger
so I won’t pray you’ll never get hurt
I’ll pray you clean out the cuts on your
elbows and learn to not pick at
the scabs on your knees
and that you’ll stand up more times
than the wind knocks you down
And that you’ll find ways to appreciate
the circles beneath your eyes, but
still hold onto the hope that one day
you will count your scars and smile because
you are proud of how far you’ve come
and how much you’ve grown, and
you’re not just surviving, you are alive.
I’m looking back on this week and I’m thinking about yesterday. Yesterday was my thoughts on Monday that became a reality. How could that be? How could my thoughts play out to be a reality? What else could become real?
I realized that I thought of you every day this week. Not all day. But every day. Today is an end to another week.
The cold decided to loosen its relentless grip just for today and for the first time in months it’s pleasant to be outside. I’m thinking of you because of all the people I know, I know you’ll enjoy it the most. I’m imagining you putting on your navy hoodie and so excited you don’t have to wear that puffy jacket. I am happy for you. Isn’t it a funny thing to be happy for someone. I am wishing you have a wonderful day today.
In the misty post-rain night air, we all smiled. It was so nice. I wanted tonight to freeze.
Something happened recently where the fear of Him, the fear of people, the fear of life, the fear of you all dissolved. Kind of like the ugly black snow on the sidewalk starting to melt. February is coming to an end.
I thought it’d be a lot warmer today, but I guess I still haven’t learned to dress for the weather. It’s a two-and-a-half years in the making, but one day I’ll learn. Luckily, I still had time to change into something warmer. I feel like there’s always time to change.
So I don’t know if it’s because of Him or because of you or because I’m getting less scared of people peeping into my heart, but I’m so happy lately. And today I want Him more. And more. And more. Do you feel the same?
It’s overcast today and forecast says it will rain around noon. I’m carrying an umbrella today and hoping you’re carrying one too. But for some reason I think you’d like the showers, the unexpected, serendipitous rain meeting with you. For some reason I think you’d like the surprise.
Because what does 70% mean? Is it a guarantee that I’d be miserable, grumpily clunking around in my boots accompanied by my pathetically wet black hair? Is it a guarantee that I’ll face the unavoidable umbrella traffic, the muddy puddles, the frustration from the unpredictability of these tears from clouds?
For some reason I think you’d lean on that 30 and go around today free from the extra weight of an umbrella in your backpack.
For some reason I see you laughing and sprinting from one awning to another finding shelter in delis to dry off. I see you making fun of yourself for getting so wet. I see you laughing.
But I still carry my umbrella….
It snowed today. Remember that night when it snowed?
On a day like today when the sky is cerulean blue and the air is a little colder than we’re used to, I want to be spending it walking around with you. Not caring what avenue we are on, or how long it will take to get to this street. But just being amblers listening to you talk about your sister or what you want to do this summer or what your favorite kind of tea is. And when we want to rest a bit, I’d treat us to coffee, because you’re always treating me, and I’d get an Americano and you’d get a plain hot coffee and we’d sit at a bench that will then become familiar to us and I know you don’t talk much but I want to share this completely beautiful day listening and walking with you.
The girl inside the cab
It was a frigid night. A friday. The city was excited and it was just dark enough for the festivities of the weekend to start. I was walking alone towards home. Fast. It was cold. Was January always so cold?
I walked down Lafayette Street. I know it’s the same street I always take, and I like to see new things, taking in the fresh new breaths of life the city grants me. But there’s something about Lafayette that I like so I always take it.
I had to stop at a red light at the corner of Spring Street. I never liked red lights, they always slow me down. I was impatiently waiting for the myriad of cars and humans to clear my way, when a yellow cab coming from the west slowed in front of me and I saw a girl inside. Her chin was rested on her arms, her two arms that crossed on top of the opened window. She was close enough for me to touch. I could see her breaths in the dry winter air.
She had a blank face. No smile. But her eyes were wild.
She had brown hair, and she was bored. The cab wasn’t going fast enough for her. She was smart. She knew her way around. Her eyes didn’t shift and she wasn’t distracted by the glittering lights, or the beating hearts bustling before her. Her eyes were wild but they didn’t wander. And she was still bored. Her heart couldn’t take any more of the city, but her eyes, her senses, couldn’t get enough of it. She was on a perpetual high. She couldn’t leave.
Before I could know her more the cab picked up speed, and soon, I could only see the back of her head. Her brown hair freed in the wind. She was on her way east. I didn’t even get to introduce to myself.
The light hadn’t turn green yet, but I thought it’d be safe for me to cross. So I did. When I was on the other side of Spring, I realized. That girl was me.
And after all that.
All the self-explanation. The self-convincing. Self-proving. That something’s lacking.
You’re still the last person I think of before falling asleep. The last thought in me before I dream.