I Have Life & That Is Enough

Day Zero Project

We were walking along the edge of quiet in the city, and he pointed to a shooting star. I was snug and golden with his hand wrapped around mine; the gold could have been the streetlamps, or the strands of his hair in comparison to mine. Used to the crumbles of the sidewalk, I was itching to remove my shoes, but we sat by the river instead, and it was quiet and he was warm. Balmy nights are my favorite because they remind me that I have nostalgia tucked somewhere in the crevices of my soul.
Those eyes of his will haunt me to my grave. I mention them too much in here but they carry some kind of mystical profundity; as much as I know about him, it feels like there are so many things I am too young, too unscathed to understand yet. It makes me feel small, but I feel like that anyway when I tip my head toward the sky. I am not here to make an impression, but to be impressed upon.

Next week is finals but my mind is on other things that are of more importance. Maybe that is silly, maybe I am just a silly person. I feel so whole right now and I want to hang on to it, but people turn on me with the snap of a finger and I will be called silly, so I’ll just admit I’m silly. It’s too easy for me to slip away into warm nights and beautiful feelings and the glow of friendships. I don’t believe that’s wrong but no one else appears to agree with me, so I just shrug my shoulders. I know enough of me to know that I will stubbornly run myself into a wall and pick myself back up and dust myself off again and there isn’t a damn thing anyone can do about it. It is my life after all, isn’t it?

I am tired, tired, tired of being treated like the village idiot. I am all sparkles and laughter and yet people manufacture flaws to throw in my face. I can’t even feel angry about it anymore; I know something about myself and that is inches of my life that I have that they do not. I laugh in their face, I feel like I’m always laughing in everyone’s face these days.

It’s Wisconsin and I’m still only 19 and I will do what I am supposed to do but I don’t have to fake enthusiasm about it. I don’t have to agree, I don’t have to embrace the weight on my shoulders. All I have to do is push through it and laugh and appreciate what I have. That’s enough for me, and I dare anyone to tell me otherwise. Laughter can be my only response now.

It’s too easy to find myself trapped by obligations; I am only obligated to live my life as best as I can.

I have my life and that is more than some people have. That is enough.

Love,
Amanda