I-Phone Musings: Seattle Part 2

While sitting in a booth in a cafe, I sit on one side and they sit together across from me.

We sat on opposite sides of the table with a history of heartbreak and beauty separating us like the formation of a cloud of smoke. It blew in my face; the scent so bitter, the air foggy. The friendships I make have a way of doing that to me. It chokes and yet, I could never escape these girls because what was also true about the friendships I made was the fact that they knew every side of me. I couldn’t let them leave with parts of me I never wanted other people to see. Over the years, friends have front row seats to your metamorphosis. In one moment, you’re conquering the world. In the next, you’re brought to your knees by a grief so mind-numbing that it slowly eats away at you without you ever realizing it.

She looked at me with sad eyes. I could tell she wanted to tell me something. I told her to go ahead. She refused and continued to refuse until she could no longer hold on to her conviction. She whispered a name. I laughed. Michael. You haven’t been the same since he died, she said. You’re harder and more cynical than any one person should be, she said. I smiled. I cried. It was like a band-aid was being stripped away. It stung, but my skin was alive. I could breathe. 

I breathed in the salty air, while walking down a dock that had a chain hanging its width with a sign in the middle that read: restricted. It was one of many private docks by Pikes Place. I continued on; the fearless freedom that radiated in the air intoxicate me. The freedom to feel every emotion known to humans overcame me. Last night, she had said that someone had told her that I felt too strongly. I do. I feel happiness like its the only happiness I’ll ever experience. I feel sadness like I’m drowning in others’ tears. I can’t change this and I can’t run away from it.

I have to stop running. 

I’m out of breath.

 

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