The next night
I am struggling with what to say. Again words are so hard to use. I have so many images in my mind and body, but I don't know how I can make you feel them. I keep erasing what I write. To be able to put trust in someone as a friend is a hard thing. That someone wants you around, that someone is not thinking in their head something that would hurt you. How can you ever really know. I am finding though that I can do it, and let go of hang-ups and reservations that keep me from coming out to play. Even if just with one person, it changes how you feel about yourself. That you have confidence in yourself enough to trust someone. In romantic relationships perhaps you can hide from this, from yourself. But when you are making friendships sometimes that soft and painful spot inside, which we try to fill with romance, gets poked, is exposed. Then you have to mend it all by yourself, fill it up on your own. These friends that can reach inside and touch, they are the soulmates that give you the strength, and make you capable of standing on your own. I have had one in my life up to this point, and I wish she were always near me. It has been over four years since we were in school together, but she still is a strength within me, that is me. Things would be easier now with her here, but there are new pieces of me that I need to mend and fill. I am scared though, that I am putting my faith in people and will be dropped, yet I am forcing myself to do it. I am forcing myself to speak, still choking but finding that if I give myself space amd just relax I can start to communicate. Interactions are painful, but I have to try.
I couldn't stop myself, and I didn't think I should. It had been so long since I had really been outside. We walk through it, but if we do not look up from our feet it is not there. I had to run and laugh, I had to breath. Life was too wonderful to stop myself from feeling it fully. I wanted to cry. Sounds and emotions that have no words come out of my mouth. I feel each drop of snow on my face and tongue, cold and firm yet a gentle carress. I think of my lilac bushes. The heavy humid air, the still wind. All of the sudden the rain is upon you. You saw the curtain coming but couldn't believe it. The rain soaks into the earth bringing up the smell of mud and moss. The lilacs are being pounded by the rain, their sent filling the air, your skin, your soul. I run madly in the yard, the smell driving me to heights of pleasure I have never known. My clothes are thrown off, somehow I must become the rain, the earth. the smell of the lilacs. I feel like I am going mad, I slide down the grass hilllside, roll around until saturated with mud and the smells of the earth. I bathe in the aroma of the lilacs, every piece of me cleaned. My mother is watching me from her window and when she sees that I am about to pass out on the lawn from the amazing pleasure of my experience, she calls me in. All this mud is not going in her house though, so she takes the hose to me. I stand shivering while she cleans me off and wraps me in a towel.
When I came in my room, my roommate commented on my smudged mascara. She suggested waterproof next time. When I went to examine myself in the bathroom I was surprised. There were black smears under my eyes and little blots under them, like tears about to spill down my cheeks. I thought I looked better than when I had started out.