I dreamt of soft pink skies and luscious green grass
clenched under my bare toes, the sweet lullaby of the ocean waves. Smells of
salt and daisies and honeysuckle trees waft through my undone hair and over my
senses. But then there were dreams of fast cars, heels, breathless smiles and a
life outside a rock.
You live your life through fantasies and distractions
because it’s so much better than taking note of your surroundings and the
people around you. Don’t get me started on the incessant nagging and “You need
to get better marks” or “Lets lose some weight okay” and you just want to run
away, run away from the green eyes of envy and the family you don’t have.
I was able to walk with legs and arms bare, my steps were
never hesitant and my thoughts were never about my appearance or what was right. It was on how the sunlight warmed
my skin, or how beautiful the mountains looked. There were no “black and white”
views on life and religion. There were so many It’s okay’s and you don’t
have to be afraid.
Your feelings contradict your mind because your room feels
like your own personal cage but it’s sickly comforting to spend your nights in.
You don’t know how to get away from it but the loneliness it offers fills you
in a good way because it’s so bad.
I’m so free in a city of high buildings and busy roads. The
freedom to drive a car during sunset on my own, but mostly filled with the
laughter of my best friends. I will take the longer routes because I have money
to spend on gas and I enjoy making careless decisions. I will get home past 10
(past your driving curfew) but I take the scolding in stride because I’m wiser
but also just a kid.
They talk so much about the future and about the decisions
they like. You want to ask about getting nowhere in life and you want to know
if it’s okay but of course you know
it’s not okay so you don’t really ask any questions. You’re always skipping
homework and you always think you will be able to finish it before class but
you know you won’t.
I speak many languages and I eat spaghetti at the
corner shop in Naples, walking over uneven stones. The flavors that fill my mouth remind me of Nonna that had white hair and a half smile. People shouted from their apartment windows, and there would be music
and dancing outside on the pavement. All friendly smiles and dancing just
because it was something to do.
A dream is just a dream, no matter how much you believe in
it. It’s a beautiful fantasy, but that’s it. It’s a place where you can escape
for 5 minutes – or 7 hours. Besides, what would life be without suffering? Without
a little suffering and pain, it just won’t be real. We need that pain to make
it real. We need it to hold us down when we get over the top. In order to find
ourselves, we need the pain and hardship to be who we truly are.
