Free
"Sometimes, you have no choice but to leave without your safety nets."
She stood on the edge, danger of the unknown looming ahead.
Home, gone. Long time ago, she reflected with regret. This was the most painless because she still knew deep inside, no matter how far she fell, she would return to home. In the end. It happened day by day, inside her, without her noticing. Eventually, her recollection of home was no longer swathed underneath childhood princess bedcovers, the musty smell of her faded stuffed dolphin, and the soft murmurings of the family household. Replaced by layers of new smells, new sensations. The feeling of satin on skin from her quilted red blanket (made by her mother, perhaps a slight cheat), the silence of a kitchen late at night echoed by the clinking of a spoon against a ceramic mug, that inimitable feeling of moving around in a place that is utterly yours and yours alone. And now, even that was being erased. Now she was standing a the precipice, no actual home, living in a borrowed home, no more moving in her own ways, no more living in her own skin. She was grateful to have a home to live in, but still. Still.
Friends, gone. Now, this can't be true. Everyone has somebody. She was just being dramatic. She didn't mean friends in the general sense of terms. She meant companionship, she meant late night phone calls, early morning coffee runs, mid-afternoon shopping trips. Someone to be on her side. She meant someone to relate her anecdotes to; the cute guy she met on the subway, that annoying girl on that television sitcom. Someone to validate her existence. She had some friends. Very few. Even fewer that were true. No one, really.
Love, gone. Evaporated before her eyes. Slowly siphoned away by disinterest, hurt, lies, truth.
The strong, strong web, this one. That kept her from falling when she jumped into her new life here. Gave her the ability to close her eyes and just live, laughing, smiling, lean into, cuddle closer, sway against. To trust. Now the mold was gone, and she was jelly waiting to form again, not sure into whom.
Future. She had no options and she had every choice. The path had now become dust, she was a girl at the edge. Completed her obligations, she wasn't even constricted to a country. She had the world. And she had nothing to grasp at. No one waiting for her, no one telling her where she belonged. She was at escape velocity, she had to jump. Now.
Nothing but her future to catch her.
She stood on the edge, danger of the unknown looming ahead.
Home, gone. Long time ago, she reflected with regret. This was the most painless because she still knew deep inside, no matter how far she fell, she would return to home. In the end. It happened day by day, inside her, without her noticing. Eventually, her recollection of home was no longer swathed underneath childhood princess bedcovers, the musty smell of her faded stuffed dolphin, and the soft murmurings of the family household. Replaced by layers of new smells, new sensations. The feeling of satin on skin from her quilted red blanket (made by her mother, perhaps a slight cheat), the silence of a kitchen late at night echoed by the clinking of a spoon against a ceramic mug, that inimitable feeling of moving around in a place that is utterly yours and yours alone. And now, even that was being erased. Now she was standing a the precipice, no actual home, living in a borrowed home, no more moving in her own ways, no more living in her own skin. She was grateful to have a home to live in, but still. Still.
Friends, gone. Now, this can't be true. Everyone has somebody. She was just being dramatic. She didn't mean friends in the general sense of terms. She meant companionship, she meant late night phone calls, early morning coffee runs, mid-afternoon shopping trips. Someone to be on her side. She meant someone to relate her anecdotes to; the cute guy she met on the subway, that annoying girl on that television sitcom. Someone to validate her existence. She had some friends. Very few. Even fewer that were true. No one, really.
Love, gone. Evaporated before her eyes. Slowly siphoned away by disinterest, hurt, lies, truth.
The strong, strong web, this one. That kept her from falling when she jumped into her new life here. Gave her the ability to close her eyes and just live, laughing, smiling, lean into, cuddle closer, sway against. To trust. Now the mold was gone, and she was jelly waiting to form again, not sure into whom.
Future. She had no options and she had every choice. The path had now become dust, she was a girl at the edge. Completed her obligations, she wasn't even constricted to a country. She had the world. And she had nothing to grasp at. No one waiting for her, no one telling her where she belonged. She was at escape velocity, she had to jump. Now.
Nothing but her future to catch her.
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