Getting Off My Carousel

These days are flying by faster and faster as I finally find a home in these gravel roads and sunset bike rides. Falling in love with Idaho families while they teach me how to cook and love and laugh even when the pain makes me shake on nights like these. Nights when the uncertainty of tommorow is overwhelming and my best friends poetry makes me cry. Beautiful words strung together that inspire my tired fingertips and make me want to breathe in all those nouns and verbs and adjectives. Angels are the people who breathe art to life.

And I am sorrounded by them.

My little sisters voice drifted over the phone line and I can hear how old her eyes must look now. Miles apart and she rehearses a presentation about The Giver like I'm sitting at the kitchen counter again, cheering her on and eating ramen noodles with a sloppy passion. Too much seasoning in a green porcelain bowl my mom got on her wedding from some nameless relative. All these pieces floating in my memory like a carousel. Spinning spinning spinning. An eternal circle in my mind.

Laying out in the sunshine that I know could be gone tommorow. My new red bikini and Fleetwood Mac. Another moment of sheer peace with my head rested on my Algebra book and my heart beating against the itchy grass. Feeling my body compressed against the earth. Grounded. Gravity taking control as i relax. as i surrender. as i let go and smell the bar-b-que scent of the suburbs. breathe it in deep and turn up the music. pretend I'm by the pool with my best friends again. It's not so hard to pretend with these tinted aviators on. When I open my eyes I'm alone again and the songs have stopped. Sometimes I think the only thing keeping me from happiness is reality.

Encouraging words on notebook paper that I'm sticking inside the cover of my favorite book. It doesnt matter how much I ache for his approval, his brown hair hasnt fallen in his face when he smiles for a long time now, instead blonde highlights shine in produce aisles while unhappy housewives stare and I feel sick because he used to wear Micky Mouse tank tops and speedos. He used to be so many things I am finally letting go of. I am finally forgiving him for not knowing how to love me. Because this pain will turn to anger. And that anger will paint my world a shade of red until all the colors fade and my heart is as cold as his is now. Please don't hate him. Just pray for him. It had to take so much pain to drain the life from those blue eyes and make them something plastic. My dad is in there somewhere. I know he is.

So now I'm giving it up. Handing my life to the universe and letting the stars fall where they will. Praying for a cosmic miracle to bring me home again. Jumping off my carousel because the circles were making me dizzy and I wasn't getting anywhere.