Twenty Sixteen

This year took a lot out of me. I got off a plane in January and gasped for air. Turbulence I tell ya.

Let’s think back to February, being in the back of an Uber, eating pizza, listening to Robyn’s Dancing On My Own, and how pure that was.

That was healing. That Robyn song was also foreshadowing.

March was a pair of scissors to a handful of hair restrained by the grip of someone’s hand, and a “what did I just do” came 48 hours later when I couldn’t gather all of the hair into a simple ponytail. A new coping mechanism must be sought out. They also tell you that things grow in April, they didn’t mean an impulsive bob.

Then the same Robyn song came on at the end of May, in the Drake Hotel. I was supposed to be somewhere else that night. In an audience listening to songs written about other women, you know the tune. Isn’t that your favourite part of a show, when the audience sings your lyrics back to you? #Communication #Am #I #Right

It came on as I was out of the bar, and I was more concerned about being 21 and running away to Europe for 6 weeks because those cab moments are temporary. So I ran as fast as I could in June, and July. I immersed my whole self in solitude, and let salt water into my lungs.

August was slip dresses and taking the flower petal from behind your ear and setting it down on your night table. I watched the time ferociously in August, God how bad did we want time to stop.

But we had to move forward in September, October, and November and we could not stop moving because once you stop you think, and these thoughts pick away at soft voices.

I said this two years ago but what I want for Christmas isn’t a tangible thing this year. I wanted the generic iPhone ringtone to echo in my pocket, to hear the husky voice at the other end of the line, letting me know that he didn’t mean to change with the seasons. That’s what we want. But yeah, that’s what we can’t get.

I want to stop editing the things people say to me so that they sound better. I need to learn that the gentleness people show you will hold the door open for them as they walk out without a word. They didn’t want to wake you they said. You haven’t slept soundly since September you respond.

I tried to stop picking at it. I got used to a routine. But admiring someone’s mannerisms like poetry, and then walking into empty rooms filled with individuals became the new norm. So did silence. We tried to speak, but we were put on hold. Or is that the dial tone?

Regardless we are here, December is almost over and we’re running out of air.

Our lungs are too heavy that we look even more tired with every step we take. But we keep walking because our souls hoped to meet halfway. They’ll be here soon. Just one more minute.

Eventually you’ll know why all of this had to happen.

Eventually you stop reaching your hand out for others to join you on a dance floor.

Eventually you’ll change with the Seasons, with the year, with the 24 hours we’re given everyday.

Eventually your soft voice will change into an unfamiliar one, and they’ll have to get to used to the way you say their name. With a little less hope, and a little more of a lesson.

Wishing you Godspeed,
Daniella

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