Saturday, April 9, 2011

Umbrella on her shoulder, piece of paper in her hand.

I feel like I'm on top of a mountain, inching closer to the edge. With broken pieces of stone shifting beneath my feet. With wind passing through my hair, causing me to squint my eyes, pushing my clothes against my skin. It feels like an arm around my waist, pulling me closer. Reaching the edge, feeling my toes curl around the sheared edge of the mountain. Against my better judgement, I'm looking down. It's at that moment that I realize that, no matter what happens, this will change me. It's like feeling that your heart is moving independent of your body. Leaping with it's hope and vision that simply won't quit. Either you follow it, or you turn around, and spend the rest of your life trying to fill the void with other things. So what do you do? Follow an internal organ, or a terrible fear of falling?

Well, apparently I followed the organ. Because I'm already falling.

More than anything, I want to make a difference. I want to do the things that other people are scared to do. I want to say what I feel and somehow maintain a mystique.

What the hell wouldn't I give for some mystique?

I think everyone needs to feel wanted. I'm think my cats need to feel wanted. I think the big brown bunny at petland needs to feel wanted. I think that my father needs to feel wanted. I want to make people feel wanted. Maybe that's how I'll make a difference.

But, I'll need a new tactic than saying "I want you." That'll just cause confusion.

When I think about you, I blush. I smile. I look like a drunken loser driving down Crowchild, car-dancing and singing songs I will never hear the same way. I take back my doubts, my worries. Let's make this easy. Because when I'm around you, I feel wanted.

"I can't seem to stop singing wherever I am. And what's worse, I can't seem to stop saying things - anything and everything I think and feel."

Sweden is a beautiful country. With beautiful people. And more people wearing Converse All-Stars than I've seen in my entire life. It's the land of Ikea, Abba, Volvo and salt-covered-licorice. It's warmer than here, and sits on the sea. I could move to Sweden. I could learn Swedish. Tusen tack. I could live in a pretty little apartment, with a pax wardrobe housing my pretty little dresses, and I could eat gluten free toast with cheez-whiz. Just for the hell of it. I could create a Lookbook account and I could take in stray cats. I could start a vlog, in my little apartment, with my little dresses, and my cats. I could read Dorothy Parker poems and tell the Swedish equivalent of girl guides, when they come around with cookies, about my love-bound exploits. I could tell them about optimism. I could tell them about tall, blonde, light eyed boys. And what it feels like to be in love.

"You don't know what love feels like until you've felt it."

Well aren't you a bundle of sunshine. I'll stop missing you at some point. I promise.

Maybe I am Odysseus. But if I'm Odysseus, then you're Oedipus Rex.

Okay? Just pretend, okay? Okay, now I'm off my dating hiatus, just pretend, okay? Where'd your girl go? Okay, now my girl, like, goes away for university. But your girl comes to visit, okay? Just pretend. Wait, can I wear your girl's shoes? My girl has the flat feet.. darn. And your girl doesn't have a ring on? You don't want her to wear a ring? It looks stupid! She has a hole in her hand. Okay, okay, now just pretend, my girl goes upstairs okay, and your girl finds the letter. Okay? Just pretend.

Okay, now your girl, and my girl, stay best friends forever. No, don't pretend. Real life now. In real life, let's stay best friends forever.

I love you, like I love my cats. And you know what that means. I bought a pink grad dress. Remember how many years you loved pink and I hated pink? Well, you've rubbed off on me. Even if you do have a Robert Pattinson calender - yes I know it was a gift, but you still won't let me draw mexi-stashes on him. And that's disappointing. Dinner's ready? Let's get dressed up. Just pretend. Do you want my carrots? Only if I can have your tuna. Let's play spy. And have a wild goose chase.

"I'll call you every single day after school."

I'm sorry I didn't call you every single day after school. But you're still my best friend, okay?


I got my movie-moment.

No comments:

Post a Comment