We dance and scream and get sweaty.
We forget everything happening
outside of those crackling speakers
in that tiny basement club.
We remember what it feels like
to be safe in our own skin.
We become a unit, an undulating mass
of hands and arms and stomping feet.
We do not exist outside of this.
We are invincible.
We are free.
Photo courtesy of Hannah Rodrigo .
The only time I ever hear my roommate is when she’s laughing. That loud, full-bodied laugh that makes my lips turn of their sides no matter how I’m feeling that day. When I’m outside smoking a cigarette the woman across the street comes over to talk to me. I lock myself out of my house and go sit on the porch with my upstairs neighbor and talk until Sevnaz comes back to let me in. I never miss living downtown. Never miss people with blinders on who don’t notice they share the world with people around them. That we all have rich, vibrant lives full of heartbreak and lost loves and beauty and resilience. I do not miss being surrounded by people who are always seeming to forget or ignore that.
Finally in a neighborhood that feels like home. Finally home.
We awkwardly balance the heartbreak of leaving, of having known this city so intimately, with the excitement of what’s next. Try to hold close the memories, the leftovers, the echoes of these years. Over coffee Mason and I talk about all the things living in a smaller town will allow us to do. I imagine a small community, an apartment big enough for two offices, trees, space to breathe. The settling that can happen when your world is not so loud. He reaches under the table and laces his fingers in with mine, squeezing tight.
At night I stare at all the things we still need to pack. I think of the therapist I’ve been seeing for two years and my best friend. All the people I’ve met here flash through my head and I struggle to keep composure. I hold the heartbreak of leaving close to the love of forward motion. I try to imagine them as two parts of a multi-facetted piece of me. It is not all joy or sadness, it is too many feelings to go on listing. My mind pulls in several directions. My heart in as many. Straining across ventricles, a sharp ache and electric excitement fight for dominance, but neither are winning.
This hurts. This is thrilling.
Ruby Pipes 