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it’s hard to explain, but here goes anyway

sometimes you feel like you know yourself in a whole new way

like you’ve become this cool girl who knows all the right things

who did things the old her was always afraid to do, you know?

and it becomes this cycle of being somebody you’ve always

wanted to be and sometimes it’s the most beautiful feeling

it really is

you feel like you’re doing things so right

and all you’re doing is things you’ve wanted.

but then sometimes you get this feeling like

you’ve left a big piece of yourself behind

and it’s only in glimmering moments that you remember that piece

it’s not necessarily a bad thing

 but

you listen to this song and you can

see the trees pass by

through the seasons and you’re in a car

with the seatbelt that always made itself

too tight

and you’re on your way to a horse farm

and there’s this feeling that there are apples

and brown fences

and dirt

and everything is alright.

you know?

you’re listening to this song

and you remember what it felt like to be so

desperately desperately

willing to please and so

invisible.

you’ve become this girl who is unforgettable to so many people

right you’ve had that proven to yourself

but like

you’ve been the girl who has been forgotten

and it’s so easy to discount those feelings because they’re so old

and this new feeling is so damn new

but there have never been feelings that have been so strong

they have utterly and completely cancelled out

the other powerful feelings of your life.

I don’t know if I necessarily use other people to define myself

wholly and constantly,

but it’s definitely something I have noticed

and it’s something I don’t particularly like.

I’ve had some glimmering moments of clarity

when I just know I’m doing exactly

exactly

what it is that I want and that I am supposed to be doing

but those moments never last, you know.

I wish they would

but I find myself more often in a place of

that weird psychological, analytical thinking

that we all seem to do

and all seem to think we are good at

putting my thoughts into everyone else’s heads.

and not listening to that tiny little voice

in the back of my head

the one telling me I should forget what someone else is doing

and should go be by myself.

I guess I get attached too easily

But in a life where I have always been either the shimmering star

or the wallflower,

how could this not be the case?

I have an idea of what’s going to happen when I get home

but I suppose I don’ really have any idea

I hope I do what I’ve been talking about

and get out

and just go.

I’m a bit surprised by how easily I got over Cinnamon’s death

I suppose the reasoning behind why it happened that way

has something to do with the lack of surprise.

I think I always had an idea it would happen this way.

And perhaps the things that upset me the most

are the things that surprise me.

I don’t necessarily dislike surprises, I mean I do like surprise parties

but I don’t like to feel dumb, and

I don’t like other people to know something I don’t.

Sometimes I miss him.

And a lot of the time I have dreams that

he is still alive

and I get these mixed feelings of relief

and of dread because I know

that the hard part hasn’t happened yet

sitting on that couch in jock safari lodge

trying to understand why the zebra fur (or faux, I don’t know)

on the couch pillows isn’t softer

that wasn’t even the hard part

he’s still here

still here, but not for long.

It makes me the saddest to think that I won’t see him again.

maybe not never, but

not at home again.

and I don’t really want to have my house be home anymore

anyway

so I suppose that’s why I’m so okay with it.

things change

and I’m constantly battling within myself to understand that

and to remember it.