And there are things you want people to know, that flow out so much more eloquently on a page of your favorite notebook. I get those inklings to scribble down a phrase of ramblings, and I hope someday I have the bravery to say those out loud. I hope someday to tell him how proud I am of who he is becoming and how lovely it was to know him. I hope I get to tell her how she single handedly saved me from myself. I want to tell him how he showed me that real men existed, the kind that swoop in, hold your hand, and buy you a giant scoop of ice cream to make the day seem bearable. I want to tell her how her infectious laughter and encouragement pales in comparisons to her ability to make people feel known and loved. I want to thank him for being exactly what I needed when all that was, was a companion to watch terrible red box movies with. When he wanted so much more and I had nothing to give, but he stayed and he showed up. I want to tell her how envious I am of her ability to be a listening ear and the most generous person I've ever met.
And maybe someday I'll have the guts to be honest and tell the people that love me that I wish I could love them more in return. I wish I could be the person they need and miss and cherish. I want to be that kind of person. And I'm trying.
But life throws your wrenches, and just when you think you're getting somewhere the ground falls out from underneath you. Your giant plans and beautiful dreams unfold in ways that you could never direct or arrange. Grit and grime sticks to your heart and grief can relapse as well as any drug. Nostalgia is a beauty and a beast. It can wreck any strength you think you carry, and it will if you let it.
Currently, I'm on an airplane. Flying over a string of mountains on my way to the coast. I'm hoping to escape and reflect and grow. And today I'm "that girl". You know the kind. I'm the one that's reading a book sitting next to two crying babies. I've got my earbuds glued tight and filling every inch of my attention span with sad love songs. I'm soaking in whatever I can from this book that's continually wrecked and inspired me at the same time. Soon we'll be landing. And I'll have a week of breathing in the salty air. One full week away from work and my constantly full calendar that I hold closer to me than most. And I hope this week turns into something more. I hope to be something different. That's a big hope for one week, an expectation most likely entirely too large to be fulfilled. But, I'm going to dream that big today because I can.
So here's to adventure and learning how to be brave. Here's to hoping and dreaming of becoming something more.
