Tonight, I sat in my bed for four straight hours. I’d started getting “unready.” Keyword: “started.” My makeup never made it off of my face, and the only thing that changed was the fact that my pants went from my body to the floor. I just sat there. I sat there and I thought. In my 23 years, I’ve learned that thinking can be your best friend and your worst enemy all wrapped into one. I had everything on my mind — school, work, my past, my future. New relationships, old relationships. And they all clumped together and had me asking myself where I was going with all of it. And how they are all intertwined in one way or another. My brain was contorting a lot more than it’s used to. And I couldn’t handle it.
Tonight, I cried. I, myself, am unaware of the reason. I honestly thought today was going to be a good day. It was supposed to be. I was praying for it. My hair was freshly dyed, my outfit was cute, my eyebrows matched, and so did my socks. Today was supposed to conspire in my favor. But God or karma or mercury or a good combination of all three obviously thought otherwise. I couldn’t even tell you what went wrong in my day because I’m still not even sure. I just felt it. My heart felt it. Something was off. Something in my twisted little brain was spinning in circles like a carousel I couldn’t get off of. I needed to get out of my bed; out of my room. It was as cluttered as my thoughts and I needed to escape. And that’s what I did.
Tonight, I drove up to my secret space. The place I go to when I have writers’ block. The place I escape to when I don’t want to be apart of the world. It’s a place I’ve known about since middle school, and I’ve been going up to on my own since high school. You can see the whole city from here, east to west; north to south. It reminds me that no matter how big this glitter-bombed city is, all your problems are so minuscule compared to where it’s contained. To this day, and since I was 12, it still blows my mind that from somewhere so high up, you could still feel so grounded.
Tonight, I wiped my own tears. And although I wanted him there, I was absolutely fine. Sometimes it’s okay to cry and not know why. And sometimes it’s okay to be alone. Sometimes the only person you owe an explanation to is yourself. Sometimes you’re all you need.