i imaged it might feel like nothing at all, a gentle
numbness that takes over when the years start
to blur together like ruined photographs. our
third summer together- or was it our second-
we sat on a rusty old swing set and imagined
the world coming undone around us. i spent
the rest of the month pricking my fingers on
sharp objects to see what might tear me open.
the human mind has a faulty memory. we forget
appointments, old friends, the plots of books.
i’m piling up the intricacies. i’m keeping track of
the small tokens of gratitude. i’m holding in my
hands the affection, stretching and changing.
my memory is merely flawed and ordinary.
how will i ever remember all these long,
beautiful years with you?
"I would like to be the air that inhabits you for a moment only. I would like to be that unnoticed and that necessary."
— Margaret Atwood
thank you, thank you, thank you
i cut my hair to my shoulders for the first time last week to feel like i’m in control while life spirals away from me. i’m graduating on saturday. i’m leaving the best job i’ve ever had. i’m saying goodbye to so many things right now, and now, and now. goodbye to hours and hours in a classroom every day, hating entitled professors and loving the kind, compassionate ones that helped to mold me into who i am. goodbye to random breaks in the middle of the day spent lounging in the grass with close friends and feeling absolutely young. goodbye to the local coffee shop i’ve worked at for the past year where i’ve met so many amazing people, from the co-workers who make me smile so hard my face hurts to the regulars that have the most interesting stories to tell; it was truly amazing to be a tiny part of so many peoples days. lastly, goodbye to my school with the beautiful, green campus and the herds of young adults learning to be someone; thank you for teaching me so much.
happy mother’s day to all those lovely mamas out there who never get enough credit for all the stuff they do. you deserve every day of the year, not just one.
personally, i’ve learned to forgive my own mother for leaving all those years ago and sometimes we text now, friendly and carefully, from across the country. it’s still been four years since i’ve seen her last, but i’m okay with that.
i’m still working on forgiving my stepmother for leaving me when she left my dad. it takes time and a lot of heart, but i’m giving it my all and hoping to succeed so that someday, i can hug her at family events and think only of the way she raised me so well, not the stormy aftermath.
i’ll always be a motherless girl at heart, but i can only hope that someday, when i have kids, the beauty of this day will shine a light on my bitterness and expose it to the true endless compassion and selflessness most mothers practice on a daily basis.