She was the young girl who dreamt of the pointless things young women do. Getting married, a valentine’s day bouquet of voluptuous red flowers, and falling in love like the movies. A small minded woman who saw the beauty in driving her car for the first time, the beauty in capturing photos on a trendy disposable camera. Who oddly saw the magic in walking around school like the only person on campus, hidden behind her elucidating headphones. In her mind, a young girl surrounded by picturesque individuals detailing the sky she had lit up. And yet, a heart broken one too many times to care as her confidence rippled shields around her skin. She was the young woman who escaped society’s chains and searched for freedom in her individuality. Defining the world on her own terms within her own dictionary. One whose feats were so large she couldn’t fathom their true power – feats that allowed her big fantasies to become a reality.
But she dreamt of the past, and wished for change of the future. Little did she realize all is the same, and you see, she is the girl who was taught by the most boundless soul, wearing the same smile, just more used. Bearing the same strong heart, just a tad more beaten up, and the same brain with bigger dreams. Wandering through an identical world enveloped in the very aspirations, but bigger, more realistic – more fulfilling.
She may not recognize me today. This foreign face, painted nails, gangly legs, a lover of literature, and a hater of whole milk. A face a little more worn from all the new memories experienced, with nails that don’t accompany the dirt previously painting their tips. Notably, she doesn’t dread english books anymore, and in fact now reads them in her spare time. And don’t hate her for this but cows milk and she don’t even get along anymore. But, she is still the girl who loves hard and falls harder. Beside an old hopeless heart, but a now mended one; forgiving. The girl who is still charmed by the soft sound of birds when she wakes up, and one who still finds mental clarity within the blossoming trees beside her window. Finding small joys in the racing beats of her heart whether she’s restlessly falling in love or running drunkenly lost at night. Except now she doesn’t feel as effortless in her longer strides, and she is a lot worse at falling in love. Besides the fact, she seeks small joys atop the sticky snow, through the lens of a new camera, or the unexplored mountains. She finds the beauty of being alone more than ever. Alone gliding over the snow of Mammoth mountain, learning to catch more than a foot of air…soon. Looking at the empty world capturing it with an artistic eye, and driving through the hills with her foot out the car screaming to Sticky Fingers. Her dreams now too plentiful and profound to chase after, but a brain more driven to house them all. She is the girl who can do it all, for her old feats act as stepping stones to even bigger ones. She thanks her heartbreaks for the beauty they allowed her to create aside the ugliness. She thanks the bruises and ripped vessels within her heart, for allowing her to love even more recklessly than before. And recognizes the young girl she once was for picking up a disposable camera drawing her to her biggest passion. For walking around school like she owned it, so she could later on own the world. Wishing she was once the young girl from years ago slowly dissipates as she not only replicates her now, but outshines what used to be.
To all the hopelessness, to all the wreckage and disappointment, here’s to being stupidly cheesy, but loving life and being me.
