I woke up this morning to the wind gnawing through my old windows. I woke up next to my little dog, and the sun slipping through my blinds like love letters pushed under a door. I woke up at one in the afternoon.
Why there was a senior skip day in November, I don’t know. But we all took advantage of that phrase. And sitting up in bed, shielded from the cold outside by my cocoon of blankets, all I could do was smile.
Last night was just another Halloween. One where my age has me stuck between being too old to trick or treat but too young to legally drink on a school night. So we smoked a lot of weed instead. I felt too grown up, having to work on Halloween night. I felt like my life is going too fast. Last year I had just met that boy, and now we’re so close that I know the feeling of his touch anywhere on my body. Last year I never thought I’d think you all were so beautiful. I didn’t think I could love any of you. But I do. I didn’t think his friends would be my friends. I didn’t think id be so content with being so exclusive.
Sometimes it feels like I have my two small hands held high above my head, carrying the weight of every ocean, every forest, and every soul on the entire earth. Sometimes it feels like I have no idea which way it rotates. Sometimes I can’t distinguish between the different phases of my life. Sometimes I feel way too broken up. But sitting there last night reminded me of how much I have. I have people, like those three boys. I have people, like him, whom I’ve known for years. I have people I’ve just met. And people I’ve yet to meet.
Tonight I left your house in the rain. Tonight I felt your hand leave mine when you grabbed the door handle. I felt the small pinpricks of adrenaline scar my palms. I felt my heart pulsate; open a close, like a morning glory. That feeling when you think your body might shatter into a thousand shards of flesh. You can feel your bones decalcify. Every neuron collapse, every synapse muddle. Because I don’t think my heart can take loving you so much. Because sometimes, everything is too beautiful. Because if there was a way to put into words: the feeling of body next to mine, the feeling of your breath deep in my lungs, the feeling of waking up to your lips kissing my collarbone, the feeling of your fingertips lingering on my skin, then it wouldn’t be true. Real miracles can never be explained.