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I don't normally share the things I write. And nothing I've written lately has even been good. I was starting to think I had lost it. I tried to quit altogether, leave it as a forgotten dream. But a part of me also knew that I still had a little left. Someone once said that you need to write until you surprise yourself. Today I sat back surprised at what was staring back at me from the paper. Again, normally I don't share my writings, but I felt like I needed to today.
"Two years. It had been two years since that last day-since the day you walked out. And although I hadn't seen you, it was like nothing had changed. For me, everywhere I looked you were there. You followed me everywhere. At first I tried to ignore you, but you wouldn't go away. I pretended like it didn't bother me. You were there, but so what? Still you persisted. You kept on and on until finally I gave in. One night, in the mid-October rain, I slipped on my best shoes and went dancing with your ghost.
As I twirled, I caught glimpses of memories, spinning. The yellow gardenias you searched the city to find. The way you always played with my fingers, even without thinking about it. The night we talked until 2 a.m. and I laughed until my sides hurt. Eating ice cream under a million stars. Our first fight. The day we got lost in the forest and I was scared, but you promised to get us out. The day we played basketball all afternoon.The day you kissed me for the first time. The day I caught you texting her and you said I had nothing to worry about. The way every time you hugged me your arms felt like home. The way you said my name. The first time you wrapped your arms around me from behind and I swear I felt the universe explode inside me. The day I accidentally told you I loved you. The day I noticed you were distracted and short. The day you-----
The first sunbeams burst through the window, stopping me mid-twirl. I had been so caught up that I had danced through the night. I was too dizzy to even stand up straight. I felt the silky fabric of my skirt swirl around my ankles. I sat in the nearest chair to catch my breath. I had forgotten what you could do to me, the way you could make me feel. Some parts were nice, some I regretted, some made my heart break all over again. But after that whirlwind dance, I realized something. You weren't the one intruding on my life. No. I was keeping your ghost alive. No one but me kept you returning day after day. The past two years I couldn't bear to let you go. The truth hit me in the deepest part of my being.
I blinked once. Twice. Swallowed and breathed deep. I bent and took of my best shoes. I stood and took careful steps at first. Hesitant steps, like I was unsure of what I was about to do. Then I ran. Through the doors, past the houses and the people and the world, my skirt pressed against my legs, my hair a tangled mess behind me.
I felt my feet hit the dewy grass. The sun was warm, bathing my face and bare shoulders in generous heat. I stopped suddenly, collapsing among a thousand dead fall leaves, my lungs burning. With nothing but sky visible above me, I breathed deeply of the clear, fresh morning. Lying that still, I could hear my heart singing for the first time in my whole life. I spread out my arms, entwining them with the leaves as though I could embrace the feeling invading my chest. This. This was what home felt like. Not some desperate attempt to be loved and accepted. Not my best attempt to manufacture affection or relive the past, but the moment that sneaked up on me when I slowed down enough to let myself catch up.
This girl who had been running hard to catch me was not the girl I knew myself to be. She was wild and brave with an honest face and a kind heart. She longed to love with no apologies and no regrets. She wanted to throw her head to the sky and soak in all the life she could. And she terrified me. She was the girl I had always wanted to be and had never had the courage to become. If I wanted things to be different, if I wanted to be that girl, I knew I had to stay and be caught."
"Two years. It had been two years since that last day-since the day you walked out. And although I hadn't seen you, it was like nothing had changed. For me, everywhere I looked you were there. You followed me everywhere. At first I tried to ignore you, but you wouldn't go away. I pretended like it didn't bother me. You were there, but so what? Still you persisted. You kept on and on until finally I gave in. One night, in the mid-October rain, I slipped on my best shoes and went dancing with your ghost.
As I twirled, I caught glimpses of memories, spinning. The yellow gardenias you searched the city to find. The way you always played with my fingers, even without thinking about it. The night we talked until 2 a.m. and I laughed until my sides hurt. Eating ice cream under a million stars. Our first fight. The day we got lost in the forest and I was scared, but you promised to get us out. The day we played basketball all afternoon.The day you kissed me for the first time. The day I caught you texting her and you said I had nothing to worry about. The way every time you hugged me your arms felt like home. The way you said my name. The first time you wrapped your arms around me from behind and I swear I felt the universe explode inside me. The day I accidentally told you I loved you. The day I noticed you were distracted and short. The day you-----
The first sunbeams burst through the window, stopping me mid-twirl. I had been so caught up that I had danced through the night. I was too dizzy to even stand up straight. I felt the silky fabric of my skirt swirl around my ankles. I sat in the nearest chair to catch my breath. I had forgotten what you could do to me, the way you could make me feel. Some parts were nice, some I regretted, some made my heart break all over again. But after that whirlwind dance, I realized something. You weren't the one intruding on my life. No. I was keeping your ghost alive. No one but me kept you returning day after day. The past two years I couldn't bear to let you go. The truth hit me in the deepest part of my being.
I blinked once. Twice. Swallowed and breathed deep. I bent and took of my best shoes. I stood and took careful steps at first. Hesitant steps, like I was unsure of what I was about to do. Then I ran. Through the doors, past the houses and the people and the world, my skirt pressed against my legs, my hair a tangled mess behind me.
I felt my feet hit the dewy grass. The sun was warm, bathing my face and bare shoulders in generous heat. I stopped suddenly, collapsing among a thousand dead fall leaves, my lungs burning. With nothing but sky visible above me, I breathed deeply of the clear, fresh morning. Lying that still, I could hear my heart singing for the first time in my whole life. I spread out my arms, entwining them with the leaves as though I could embrace the feeling invading my chest. This. This was what home felt like. Not some desperate attempt to be loved and accepted. Not my best attempt to manufacture affection or relive the past, but the moment that sneaked up on me when I slowed down enough to let myself catch up.
This girl who had been running hard to catch me was not the girl I knew myself to be. She was wild and brave with an honest face and a kind heart. She longed to love with no apologies and no regrets. She wanted to throw her head to the sky and soak in all the life she could. And she terrified me. She was the girl I had always wanted to be and had never had the courage to become. If I wanted things to be different, if I wanted to be that girl, I knew I had to stay and be caught."
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