Chest to Chest
Nose to Nose
Palm to Palm
We were always just that close
Wrist to Wrist
Toe to Toe
Lips that felt just like the inside of a rose
So, how come when I reach out my finger
It feels like more than distance between us
In this California king bed
We're ten thousand miles apart
I've been California wishing on these stars
For your heart for me
My California king
Eye to Eye
Cheek to Cheek
Side by Side
You were sleeping next to me
Arm in Arm
Dusk to Dawn
With the curtains drawn
And a little last night on these sheets
So, how come when I reach out my fingers
It seems like more than distance between us
In this California king bed
We're ten thousand miles apart
I've been California wishing on these stars
For your heart for me
My California king
Just when I felt like giving up on us
You turned around gave me one last touch
That made everything feel better
And even then my eyes got wetter
So confused wanna ask you if you love me
But I don't wanna seem so weak
Maybe I've been California dreaming...
- Rihanna, California King Bed
He left, and I went upstairs to the empty box of tissues still sitting on my bed. As I looked around my room, I saw what remnants were left of my thoughts before. Scrunched up and stained with black, used tissues thrown scattered along the floor.
I can't remember how long it's been since I was entirely happy in the last two months. This whole sadness thing has honestly got to stop. It's so draining, and it's just, not me. When I see friends for brief moments in time or worse when I'm with him, I have to mask myself. I have to keep them hidden. I lock them up. I bury them. And then bury them some more. These thoughts, all the thoughts that have been pecking away at my mind so tediously; they peck and peck a little more aggressively. Each hour passes faster than the next as I attempt to bury them deep down inside of me, in hopes that they won't get out.
I try to bury them, bury them, deep, deep down, but it's so hard when there's no one to talk to about this. I feel so lonely. I can't say that I've ever remembered feeling like this before. And worse, I don't understand why I'm feeling like this in the first place. I mean, I do. But I'm not exactly sure why I've been feeling how I've been feeling so intensely.
Flashback to the Second Grade. It's the year 1999. My parents are sending me to a school. It's a school meant for k-12 graders placed in the city of sin. Such a school was meant to serve one purpose, and one purpose only. And it did, serve its purpose that is. I graduated from the same school as a senior in the year 2010. I was accepted to quite a few amazing schools located all along the east and the west coast. And I graduated that year, with a sense of hope, and eyes full of promise. I was at the monumental brink in my existence; the point at which one's life is supposed to "begin".
My life did "begin" or so I thought in the fall of 2010 as a college freshman at Chapman University. I spent one semester made up of six months learning and growing into the person that I am at the moment. Granted, fall of 2010 took place not even a full year ago but I can't honestly begin to describe to you how much those six months of being on my own for the first time changed me.
For once in my life, I was freed from my overbearing parents by the California state border line that kept a distance between us. All of my life, my parents had kept such a close watch over me when it came to things that they would allow me to do, to the point where I even felt like some days it was hard to breathe. But for the most part, I followed their rules. For 18 years straight, I went along with what they said, hoping and waiting for the day when I could go off to college and finally just be myself. I know my parents were like that because they were trying to keep me safe, but there comes a point in a child's life where that child needs to be given her freedom so that she might have a change to grow into a remarkable adult. Instead I felt crippled and stunted by their restrictions, and I never felt like it was safe to just live for a little.
I'm such a strong believer in the idea that one must enjoy one's youth to the fullest while they still can. I believe that the period in everyone's lives in which they experience what it means to be a "youth" should never be wasted. It's a time that is meant to be filled with mistakes, heartbreaks, and adventures so that when the time comes to be an adult, we can laugh at the past and be prepared for the future. I never have felt like I've gotten that chance. The chance to feel alive, to feel young, and wild and free. The chance to roam the streets endlessly with friends as we took in the night time sky and the light infested scenery. The chance to feel the wind flow through my hair as I sat on dampened grass, hand in hand with another, while the sounds of a music festival went running through the air. The chance to get wasted with your friends, and to laugh about the scenes of idle debauchery that occurred the night before. I wanted the chance to live a little, laugh a little, love a little. I wanted the chance to fuck the one I love. I wanted the chance to hold him all night after we fucked without having to worry about some delayed curfew. We'd wake up together in the morning with tender kisses on the cheek, and palms intertwined.
I wanted the chance to be in an eternal state of happiness for weeks on end because I'm finally able to live the life I want to live, and to see the people that I care to share my time with whenever the hell I want. To be given the chance to enjoy what's left of my youth...and it all came to an end, the chance that I had. Then you came along, and my wishes started all over again.
