Everything was so new, so intangible. I felt safe in my
room. My haven, my space. Every time I found myself feeling uncomfortable, I’d
think about my bed. Every time I found myself unsure of how to act or what to
say, I’d think about the liberty I had to be free in the privacy of my own
room. I never had a place to call my own before. It felt mysterious. I felt
like I had the key to a hidden world that I possessed. Everything that happened
behind my door was my memory, my experience. It was my environment.
Everyone I invited inside my world had become a part of my
story. It was nice to have a place to locate my thoughts. A place to fall back
on. Security. That’s all you ever want to feel in your home. Safe.
I have felt it all. Or so I like to think. Or maybe so I’d
like to hope? Sometimes I get triggers or reminders that lead me to look back
on my life and I just think to myself; I have such a strange life. But then
again, isn't everyone’s life just a different version of a string of strange,
warped, random, unexplainable events? We never really know why, we just know
what is.
I have tossed and turned. I have wrestled. Blood, sweat and
tears. But I have felt pure joy. I have felt a love so strong it could carry
me. I have laughed and I have felt complete. I've ordered enough pizza to feed
an army. How fun that was, having someone to eat with. Having someone to enjoy with. It’s funny, the only times I miss
are the times we were doing nothing. There’s beauty in feeling happy in stillness.
So often, we’re chasing the rush. We’re chasing that feeling
you get when you have energy to last you till the A.M and everything just
flows. You channel the vibe. Your waiting for that moment where everything just
spins around you, images you see become snapshots in your head, a montage of
the night. Everything you say and hear is funny. Were you always this cool? Who
knows, we never talked. Not until now.
But do we need it?
I think I like feeling weightless.
