Your ocean spreads out on sunbeams, radiant, knowing.
From my view, the snow is white and blinding. Nothing but Donner Party landscapes and blank neon patterns holding still. A small black cat is the juxtaposition crawling low between little glaciers of bluish snow. When the white powder piles higher and higher onto the ground, I find it oddly comforting the way this can have a double meaning. When snow fills the concrete and the streets and the phantom grass, I feel lonely like a child feels when she can't find her mother in a crowded department store.
I feel lost and hopeless in a drunk debutant kind of way. I know that the world I see before me is new, exciting, and overflowing with opportunity for me, the wayward kid on the brink of adulthood.
But still I feel sad, and I cannot place the reasons why. When I dig into my Freud-found parts, I think that maybe I am scared. Nervous about the future and second guessing my instinct.
I never thought I would find comfort in a person, a grotesque notion I have always loathed.
I never thought I would feel so completely taken aback by the way a person moves and speaks and blinks. But I do, and this troubles me. It is will be so hard to be away from them. As days collect, the connection strengthens, and it seems like we will be living together and exploring together so soon.
Then I rewind the tape and remember that I will be flying, and they will remain stagnant in their suburban home. This makes me sad for him, and grossly sad for myself.
I considered staying in this state for a year and waiting for him to finish high school. I know it sounds terrible to hinder myself of living in my dreamland, but I know these dreams will be diminished the first time I pass hipsters and Louis Vuitton-clad mommies. I will grow to loathe the city I love based only on history.
So why not stay for one short year? Get my feet wet in the waters of Liberal Arts, then learn to swim in the city which will act as my safe, solemn womb. I may consider Oberlin for that test run. I have to decide.
I do not want to stay in the buckeye state where my family resides in their comfortable, safe environment. I do not want to become as ignorant and neglectful as they have become.
But if it means waiting for what is good to me now, maybe I will. Then again, maybe I will become tough and reclusive in another place. It is a paradox that I need to unwind so that I can live my life and remember who I am.