Cape Town
For some reason, tonight I'm remembering all the feelings I had for boys like Peter and Seth and Ollie.
Maybe it's just the excitement of feeling attractive, feeling the palpable attraction that someone has to you, and feeling that it's mutual, and not having any idea where it might go, and being excited to see what happens next. I think I've always wanted a relationship, and there were moments when things weren't exciting, they were tiresome, and I wanted only to have the surety of someone coming home with me. But there were also moments when I felt so clearly and quintessentially myself, and I haven't felt that way in a while.
Clearly free. I felt so undeniably free at certain points, but especially when I was abroad. I felt like I was in exactly the right place, doing exactly what I was supposed to be doing. It's a real high, having a feeling like that. To feel not like you can do whatever you want, but to feel like you are doing exactly what you are supposed to. You are in exactly the right place, and at the right time.
I remember the way my feelings got involved, and the way that things got complicated. But I also remember the crazy feeling of being so undeniable confident in myself, and so clearly happy where I was and with what I was doing. I remember feeling more wanted than I had in a long time, feeling entirely beautiful and desired and interesting and on top of the world.
I went to Cape Town, and I was ready for the world to open up and swallow me, take me down into its center and melt my skin and bones so that it could completely reshape me. I watched the ocean like I was ready to swim across it, picked up sand and felt it fall between my fingers a thousand times. I drank wine and took shots without taking breaths; the first night a boy bought me french fries from McDonald's, and I wasn't hungry, so I threw them out the window of a moving car. I spent money I didn't have, my childhood dog died without me, I cried and learned to do a handstand, everything seemed so plausible. I felt so open and free.
With steady fingers, I pried open my chest and allowed parts of South Africa to fill the space where my heart had been. I felt alive not because I was young, but because I was so unimpressionable. On sunny days, I stood up on rented surfboards, felt the waves pick me up and hold me. In a hostel on the east coast of the country, my friend and I ran to the beach in the dark, smoothed our hands across the sand near the water, and watched it light up green; we did this because in between the grains was something alive.
Maybe it's just the excitement of feeling attractive, feeling the palpable attraction that someone has to you, and feeling that it's mutual, and not having any idea where it might go, and being excited to see what happens next. I think I've always wanted a relationship, and there were moments when things weren't exciting, they were tiresome, and I wanted only to have the surety of someone coming home with me. But there were also moments when I felt so clearly and quintessentially myself, and I haven't felt that way in a while.
Clearly free. I felt so undeniably free at certain points, but especially when I was abroad. I felt like I was in exactly the right place, doing exactly what I was supposed to be doing. It's a real high, having a feeling like that. To feel not like you can do whatever you want, but to feel like you are doing exactly what you are supposed to. You are in exactly the right place, and at the right time.
I remember the way my feelings got involved, and the way that things got complicated. But I also remember the crazy feeling of being so undeniable confident in myself, and so clearly happy where I was and with what I was doing. I remember feeling more wanted than I had in a long time, feeling entirely beautiful and desired and interesting and on top of the world.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I went to Cape Town, and I was ready for the world to open up and swallow me, take me down into its center and melt my skin and bones so that it could completely reshape me. I watched the ocean like I was ready to swim across it, picked up sand and felt it fall between my fingers a thousand times. I drank wine and took shots without taking breaths; the first night a boy bought me french fries from McDonald's, and I wasn't hungry, so I threw them out the window of a moving car. I spent money I didn't have, my childhood dog died without me, I cried and learned to do a handstand, everything seemed so plausible. I felt so open and free.
With steady fingers, I pried open my chest and allowed parts of South Africa to fill the space where my heart had been. I felt alive not because I was young, but because I was so unimpressionable. On sunny days, I stood up on rented surfboards, felt the waves pick me up and hold me. In a hostel on the east coast of the country, my friend and I ran to the beach in the dark, smoothed our hands across the sand near the water, and watched it light up green; we did this because in between the grains was something alive.
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