I think going a full month without writing became one of the most absurd things I’ve done. I’m somewhere far from home, a place where I’m supposed to be writing and creating and all I’ve done is scribble musings on receipts, napkins, and the notes section on my iPhone.
When I first got here, I struggled to better understand the meaning of home. I was homesick, but didn’t want to go home because I felt that there was still so much to see, do, and write. There was this space, it’s a tad hollow and it has been cleansed out by salt water, and literature but I didn’t feel rested.
I was under an umbrella in the Algarve, listening to nothing but different languages and the waves crashing against the shore. My friends sent me messages about the phone calls they made, and the way they chose to use their voice before someone spoke up for them. I realized that I should have made that phone call before I left. I think the lack of closure prior to my departure is what was so troubling the first two weeks.
I’m not so different from everybody here, I feel we all have the same heart. I realized that when someone reached out to me, and said “Close your eyes and just listen to the music.” So I did what I was told and for once didn’t want to be anywhere else.
It’s 2am, the scent of Gin Tonic lingers and all the man wants to listen to is Champagne Supernova. You dance to the music you don’t usually listen to because there’s confetti everywhere and for once it didn’t matter about the striped dress, the Robyn song moment, pink nightclub trials and tribulations, despite everything that you did not deserve you are here, and you believe in what you write about again because you’re witnessing it.
I tell him I’m a writer but I haven’t written in a month. He says that I can do and write whatever I want to but my main issue this month was trying to find exactly what it is I wanted to say. He also said not to write about him or this because he thought he wasn’t making any sense. He’ll never find this anyways but I’m grateful to be writing this so sorry! *Kanye shrug*
That you refuse to write about the past but it writes to you at 3am. And you know better so you want to do better. There will always be a part of you that just thinks maybe you did it wrong.
That for the first time in awhile I had every single family member in one room, and I couldn’t tell you how that felt. I tried to write about it, find a way to explain it but all I can say is that it filled the hollow part I was talking about earlier.
There’s always going to be that one person crying at a wedding. Not because they’ve reached the open bar too many times, but because the idea of being enough for somebody is real, and they’ll give you what you deserve rather than asking you what you thought you deserved.