Wednesday, December 11, 2013

There Once Was this Girl

She used to live in a place that was much colder, you know. It snowed a lot, but that didn't mean it didn't just melt days later. No mater; the snow wasn't nearly as bothersome as the weathermen made it out to be. It was kind of nice because it made you feel like everything was going to be okay simply because of the blinding shimmer. The girl that once was really liked it in the snow... It made the air easy to breathe. She vividly remembers Christmas lights in the snow by the capital and a coffee shop with cups that weren't washed very often, but that didn't bother her because she didn't wash herself very often either: It fit, that coffee shop and her. It must have been the paper mache tables, that out of tune piano, or maybe even the brownies that made that coffee shop the best place to gather and think. A lot of walks happened around there, and they happened in a lot of different seasons. The girl that once was never minded the 20 minute drive because sometimes driving seemed spontaneous! She often played the 'How many miles can I go on empty" game just to seek the thrill of being stranded somewhere new. Lord knows the girl who once was had enough mix CDs to last her for miles of empty, teach her new routes, and let her sort things out. It's funny, because now that girl's speakers are broken, and when it snowed she felt it was rather cold and she preferred to stay inside. She showers at least 5 times a week now, and most feel that's an improvement. Afterall, she's much fancier nowadays in the land of the famous and business-minded folk.

Sometimes, though, the girl that once was secretly steals away and becomes the girl that will always exist in the hearts of those who once knew her. She is a less bitter, anxious, jealous, more secure version of that girl, but nonetheless, she still listens to Dashboard and fibs about the amount of showers taken. She still drinks a pot of coffee a day and goes too deep too fast just to show those around her that she'll love until there's nothing left. She likes the feeling of pouring out just to know another has received...even if she's received nothing.

It's like the girl that once was has lived two distinct lifetimes which have never intersected. It's like one day she woke up and ceased existing as the girl who once was and became the girl who is. She has these dreams sometimes though; these dreams about waking up around the capital and running, and driving, and running just to find that girl and tell her that everything will be okay as long as she stays and hums a simple tune. She just needs to stay and run in place instead of running away. She wonders what would have happened had she woken up and breathed more breaths as the girl who once was. She only knows one thing: Those lifetimes can never intersect without ending up in a terrible and fiery death-blast (Too much  Si-Fi? Sorry, that's the girl who once was speaking.). The girl who once was is like a storybook now. A collection of cautionary, humorous, and romantic stories of seemingly fictional tales.


Bedtime stories are for children. The girl who once was lays her head down on the coffee shop table, hums a pretty tune, and waits to see her other self in her other life, if only in her sleep. Run straight, girl.

{Sometimes your dreams tell you marvelous tales...}