I'm Not Ready To Say Goodybe
I spent far too much time being wrapped up in moments that leave me craving the future.
Craving something other than this, here.
It usually happens when the distance between my heart and the heart of my loved ones seems all of a sudden too far.
It usually happens when two or more items on my grocery list are out of stock. Get it together Pick n Pay.
It usually happens when an essay is demanding to be written, when I've been in the Eastern Cape for more than two months at a time
and when I feel as though there's a life that I want to live that is going on without me.
These moments are ugly and lonely and heavy. But they never last long simply because it's impossible to deny the fact that I'm incredibly blessed to be here, now, with them. They're quickly replaced by moments that leave my heart laughing so loud I fear it may burst!
Last night, up at the Monument, gave birth to so many of these happy, loud, heart bursting laughs, with all 15 or 19 or however many there are of us sitting under an enormous, black sky peppered with the most beautiful stars.
I look around me and I fall in love with each and every one of you. I fall in love with this feeling of being safe and full.
Conversation is flowing, our voices intertwining with one another, forming the most beautiful dance. The kind of dance that hasn't been rehearsed, the kind of dance that leaves you breathless at the beauty of it.
We talk about our favourite moments of the last three years. Although the air is anything but silent, you can almost feel the million happy memories flowing through everyone's minds.
We wonder if things would have turned out Differently had the first date been focused on getting to know her heart, instead of wondering how long it would take before she'd be willing to mix her soul with yours between your cool bed sheets. I quietly decide that I like the way things turned out. I don't want to get to know Differently.
We talk about our mother's maiden names and our first pet. We laugh and we laugh and we laugh and I ask him to move his leg back to the spot against my back because it was keeping me warm and I was silly and wore shorts. We shiver as our precious side of the earth moves further and further away from the sun, but nothing in all this world could cool the warmth we're feeling in our hearts at this moment.
Someone passes the wine over my chest and I shift my head to a more comfortable spot in her lap and I think to myself how great it feels to be here, lying on my back under a million twinkling stars, singing and giggling so hard that I feel it in my back.
It's easy. It's safe. It's natural. It's a happiness that I fear losing, a happiness that comes from showing people the rawest form of yourself and being loved by them regardless.
The talk of stars and old Black Eyed Peas songs is accompanied by the heavy smell of Lays Cheese and Onion chips on everyone's breath. I note that I'm glad that I didn't have any, besides I'm physically full. Emotionally full too. My heart so, so happy that I don't want to think about it for too long because when I think about anything for too long I get sad and I really, really don't want to ruin this moment.
He moves his leg from my back and I feel that cold spot again.
I look across the group and make eye contact with someone laughing at something I've said. In the back of my mind I'm thinking do you even realize how happy it makes me to spend time with you? Do you know you're loved by us and that this group wouldn't be the same without you? I consider saying these things out loud, but I decide that they'd be safer in my heart, so I ask you to pass the wine instead.
Someone plays with my hair and tickles my forehead and I ask them not to stop. They stop. I smile because just like everything in that moment, it felt so lovely.
Someone passes a comment, and I remember that we're all just as broken as each other. We've all got these beautiful brave faces and most of the time we're walking through the same shit storms, just not together. We're walking through them alone because we're kind of embarrassed that we don't have it all together.
We laugh a terrified laugh at the fact that in about 7 years we'll be 30. We don't have or shit together now, and we're all pretty sure we won't have it together then either.
As we drive home aware of the fact that it's already tomorrow morning, we wind down the windows and the cool night air rushes in desperately and kisses us all hello. NONONO's Pumpin' Blood is turned up as loud as it can go and I now know that I'll never be able to hear that song without being brought right back to this moment. The car approaches our gate and we decide to carry on driving, simply because we don't want this moment to end. We stick our hands out the window and wave them up and down, up and down, up and down. This simple movement brings me right back to a moment in my childhood - my dad driving around the farm, my arm sticking out of the bakkie window just as it is now. I realize that back then, in that moment I was happy too. In the back seat she's waving a bright green balloon out the window. She exclaims that it's the most fun ever and so she gives us each a try. I realize that she's right. It is the most fun ever.
Throughout this entire evening there's been a thought in the back of my mind that I've refused to acknowledge. It's only later, back home in my bed after my alarm has been set and my curtains closed that I finally, reluctantly and somewhat sadly acknowledge that relentless thought, that unexpected realization - I am not ready to say goodbye.
Craving something other than this, here.
It usually happens when the distance between my heart and the heart of my loved ones seems all of a sudden too far.
It usually happens when two or more items on my grocery list are out of stock. Get it together Pick n Pay.
It usually happens when an essay is demanding to be written, when I've been in the Eastern Cape for more than two months at a time
and when I feel as though there's a life that I want to live that is going on without me.
These moments are ugly and lonely and heavy. But they never last long simply because it's impossible to deny the fact that I'm incredibly blessed to be here, now, with them. They're quickly replaced by moments that leave my heart laughing so loud I fear it may burst!
Last night, up at the Monument, gave birth to so many of these happy, loud, heart bursting laughs, with all 15 or 19 or however many there are of us sitting under an enormous, black sky peppered with the most beautiful stars.
I look around me and I fall in love with each and every one of you. I fall in love with this feeling of being safe and full.
Conversation is flowing, our voices intertwining with one another, forming the most beautiful dance. The kind of dance that hasn't been rehearsed, the kind of dance that leaves you breathless at the beauty of it.
We talk about our favourite moments of the last three years. Although the air is anything but silent, you can almost feel the million happy memories flowing through everyone's minds.
We wonder if things would have turned out Differently had the first date been focused on getting to know her heart, instead of wondering how long it would take before she'd be willing to mix her soul with yours between your cool bed sheets. I quietly decide that I like the way things turned out. I don't want to get to know Differently.
We talk about our mother's maiden names and our first pet. We laugh and we laugh and we laugh and I ask him to move his leg back to the spot against my back because it was keeping me warm and I was silly and wore shorts. We shiver as our precious side of the earth moves further and further away from the sun, but nothing in all this world could cool the warmth we're feeling in our hearts at this moment.
Someone passes the wine over my chest and I shift my head to a more comfortable spot in her lap and I think to myself how great it feels to be here, lying on my back under a million twinkling stars, singing and giggling so hard that I feel it in my back.
It's easy. It's safe. It's natural. It's a happiness that I fear losing, a happiness that comes from showing people the rawest form of yourself and being loved by them regardless.
The talk of stars and old Black Eyed Peas songs is accompanied by the heavy smell of Lays Cheese and Onion chips on everyone's breath. I note that I'm glad that I didn't have any, besides I'm physically full. Emotionally full too. My heart so, so happy that I don't want to think about it for too long because when I think about anything for too long I get sad and I really, really don't want to ruin this moment.
He moves his leg from my back and I feel that cold spot again.
I look across the group and make eye contact with someone laughing at something I've said. In the back of my mind I'm thinking do you even realize how happy it makes me to spend time with you? Do you know you're loved by us and that this group wouldn't be the same without you? I consider saying these things out loud, but I decide that they'd be safer in my heart, so I ask you to pass the wine instead.
Someone plays with my hair and tickles my forehead and I ask them not to stop. They stop. I smile because just like everything in that moment, it felt so lovely.
Someone passes a comment, and I remember that we're all just as broken as each other. We've all got these beautiful brave faces and most of the time we're walking through the same shit storms, just not together. We're walking through them alone because we're kind of embarrassed that we don't have it all together.
We laugh a terrified laugh at the fact that in about 7 years we'll be 30. We don't have or shit together now, and we're all pretty sure we won't have it together then either.
As we drive home aware of the fact that it's already tomorrow morning, we wind down the windows and the cool night air rushes in desperately and kisses us all hello. NONONO's Pumpin' Blood is turned up as loud as it can go and I now know that I'll never be able to hear that song without being brought right back to this moment. The car approaches our gate and we decide to carry on driving, simply because we don't want this moment to end. We stick our hands out the window and wave them up and down, up and down, up and down. This simple movement brings me right back to a moment in my childhood - my dad driving around the farm, my arm sticking out of the bakkie window just as it is now. I realize that back then, in that moment I was happy too. In the back seat she's waving a bright green balloon out the window. She exclaims that it's the most fun ever and so she gives us each a try. I realize that she's right. It is the most fun ever.
Throughout this entire evening there's been a thought in the back of my mind that I've refused to acknowledge. It's only later, back home in my bed after my alarm has been set and my curtains closed that I finally, reluctantly and somewhat sadly acknowledge that relentless thought, that unexpected realization - I am not ready to say goodbye.
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