THE YEAR OF CHARADES

This year everyone was falling in love. Everyone I know was getting the butterflies. This year everyone I know was going on first dates and last dates and picking up broken pieces and laying them out on the dinner table. This year everyone I know had sweaty palms and wore too much Chapstick. It was a lot of love letters and bad poems, giddy conversation and fairytale talk. This year everyone I know was trying to be put together. This year I was putting together a puzzle with several missing pieces. 

This year everyone I know was looking up the word mend in the dictionary and finding a picture of someone else next to its definition. This year was a lot of pick pocketing other people’s therapy, playing detective to solve everyone else’s mystery. This year everyone I know was falling; in love, out of love, into themselves. This year I was force fed all of them. This year was a psych ward, a room with a lot of white walls and people handing me remedies. This year was building a patchwork quilt out of my past selves, laying it over the back of my favorite chair and sitting down for awhile. This year was coming home to find the quilt cut apart. It was a whole lot of inside out hide and seek, looking for places to hide where I wouldn’t be found. This year was snow storms in June and tornado season in December. I was inside out. Looking back at this year I see a whole lot of scattered pieces, a lot of bright yellow caution tape blocking off my memories. I am waiting for my call back from criminal minds after all of these crimes I’ve been solving. This year I stopped at a lot of green lights and I lost a lot of maps. This year I asked a lot of people how to get home.

This year feels like it was five piled into one. This year I was playing charades and auditioning for the lead roles in other people’s lives. This year I knew exactly who I was and this year I was terrified of my reflection. This year was a reallyyyy big puzzle, and I didn’t ever finish it, but I put me together, crookedly. I lit candles in really dark tunnels and I gave up robbing the banks of other people’s healing. I think I learned this year that I’m just going to learn from this year. Old wounds don’t heal if you keep sending them birthday cards. 

All I want to remember from this year is how true everyone was. How ripped from pretend we were, all of the roles we got cut from, the spotlights that didn’t shine on us, how thrown into reality we were. I want to remember the highlight reels that only played our mistakes, the silver screens that had grand openings for our broken hearts. I want to remember how real and afraid and ecstatic we became. I want to remember the belly laughs we created and the thank god we’re so alive smiles we shaped with our own desires to be better. I’m thankful for all the disaster and all the I won’t make its and the fear, from it we found softening and thawing and truth. This year we became so alive.