Part Of The Narrative

     I wish I could cry for a day so that I could be fine. I wish I could let my mom walk in and see that I was crying. I wish I was able to show emotion, to express myself in any way other than humor. I wish I could be serious about serious things, I wish I was brave enough to cry to my friend on FaceTime and not be scared. I wish I could be vulnerable in more places then a bunk bed at night in the pitch black. I wish I hadn’t let myself set the standard of being that friend who always has a joke, who never cracks, because she has it all together. I wish I had a deep story, or a dramatic testimony, or something that would make people look at something other than the walls of expectations I’ve built. I wish I knew everything about relationships and how to heal them and how to cut them and how to wrap them up in bandages and hide them so no one knew they were broken. I wish I had what I lost. I wish I wasn’t on the outside anymore. I wish I wasn’t such a hypocrite. I wished I lived closer to someone I really know so they could know I don’t practice what I preach. I miss being the one who came to church late and automatically found my best friend, who’s holding a Starbucks drink she bought for me on the way here. Her mouth drops open as she squeals about the new look I tried with my hair. After church she pulls me over to her mom and we exchange whispered conversations trying to arrange a sleepover. I miss being the one who cared enough to wake up hours before needed, just to get ready, who picked her outfit out the night before and did her hair three days in advance. I wish I was strong enough to admit weakness, I wish I was mature enough to handle more then I can, I wish I was able to handle being confided in even though I know I shouldn’t be. I wish I was brave enough to show people my work, my passion, my art, my writing, my music. I wish I could celebrate my friend’s trying to get more into the things I’m into without feeling like they’re trying to steal my identity. I wish I was making more progress than I am. I wish I really did have it all together, and I wish I knew how to tell people what I mean without making them feel terrible.

I wish I was like you.

It’s beautiful outside.

The sun

Peeks over the clouds

Turning them golden

As it starts to set.

The trees

Let little flecks of light through.

The leaves look like dappled paint.

I can see myself

In the car mirror

Singing

“A little fall of rain.”

One and a half hours later

I walk out the church doors.

My posture is tired.

But my eyes

Are full of light.

A small secret

That I hide.

A small moment

Tucked away forever.

As I look around,

Even the parking lot seems stunning.

The dull looking cars

Speak volumes about the people who drive them.

The cracked pavement

Is so detailed.

Many colors overlap the uniform grey blue.

I was appreciative before.

But now I am thankful.

My heart sings

I smile as I walk to my car

I grin in the fading light

I think

Of my secret.

The precious thing is

Though this secret concerns you

You do not know that I have it.

You may not even remember it.

You were there

But the lovely thing is

It is my secret.

The way I tilted my head

As I examined the organ pipes

The way your eyes met mine

More then once

The way I said something

Something silly

Not even worth addressing

And you,

Standing on the edge

Of my bubble of space,

Laughed.

You laugh still.

I can hear it

I can see it

It is like rain.

It is like rain on a beautiful day where the sun is shining through the clouds and making them appear golden.

It is unexpected.

It is surprising

But not unwelcome

Not to me.

The rain falls on my skin

I soak it up

I close my eyes,

Reveling in this moment

I capture it

I save it

I freeze it in time.

The rain stops soon.

I turn away

I get a drink

People come in

We are singing now

The rain is over

But I am still wet

And where you looked at me

Where you laughed—

Where the rain fell—

There is a rainbow.

A promise.

A little fall of rain

On a beautiful day

Where the sun shines through the clouds

Turning them

Gold.

4/23/24