Taking Flight

So, while school has been taking up tons of time, as per usual, it isn't the reason I've been such a slime-mold about updating. The reason? I've been holding off sharing a story some of you already know. This blog, generally speaking, I reserve for school-related stories. Yet as any teacher knows, the two worlds become so utterly entwined sometimes, that stories are hard to separate. Plus, the situation was more delicate than sunbaked wings of a dragonfly. But, the time for being delicate has passed on to the time for being honest.

This year, as I've mentioned earlier, is a year for me. A year to write and draw and play and learn. A year for me to refuse to be boxed in. A year to really work on myself. A year to be undefinable. A year to say I have no regrets. A year to make myself the person I want to be in full. A year of good habits. A year for the soul. A year of friendship, of exploration, of adventure. A year for me.

So, I did something I never thought I'd do. Nope. Not skydiving. No to joining a shooting range. Also no to karate and horse whispering. No, even, to taking bootay-shaking classes. (Which, really, is a shame, no?)

Instead of all of those things..... I stirred up the drama pot something awful, got a terrible, terrible stomach ache, twisted my hands in frustration, furrowed my brow into crevasses and nearly gnawed off my bottom lip. Why? Because I'd been laughing, euphorically, for weeks.

That makes sense, right? To be terrified because I'd been skipping around, grin on my face, feeling free? Feeling like a flood of shimmering golden butterflies were swirling around me, lifting me gently me and giving me wings, strong and powerfully gliding. Monarchs in migration to warmer climates; monarchs migrating to better times. Feeling like, I can do anything. Floating, lifting, climbing into the stratosphere. Jettisoning into space. Propelling into wonder. Why? Again, if you know me at all, you know.
As it turns out, there's this boy......

WAIT!
Halt!
Stop now!
Quit thy eyes from reading! Turn off your brain completely! It's about to get sappy. And if sap causes the gag reflex or reverse-peristalsis... you will be hurling your Oreos all over your monitor! Cease, I say. (And desist! my mother would add)

No? Going to be difficult? Okay. You asked for it...

So it goes like this....

Girl invites boy to hang out, purely platonically. They've known of each other for a year, but don't really know one another at all. Girl is curious and sees a potential partner in crime; she is always on the lookout for a fellow mischief-maker, you see. So, boy and girl go to the bookstore, talk about nerdy mathematic/science-y things, eat lunch, dress up in ridiculous outfits and laugh, heads tilted to the heavens and chortling.... all day. Then, while walking amidst commerce, misty lights, and winking stars; among the sounds of laughing children and the splash of fountains, the girl has this thought, this sudden, epic, striking, lightning-bolt thought:

This boy is going to be one of my best friends.

She stops for a second, pauses her feet from chasing him through the fountain, and looks at him through half-squinted eyes. Eyelashes dotted and sparkling with droplets, eyes seemingly dotted with these watery sequins, she knows. A best friend. She can feel it. Being with him feels like being with every Great Friend I've ever had.
She also knows she's gleaming, and that it's not from the soft spray of water, its not the subtle glow of perspiration from the scampering. Its from the smile that glints in both sets of eyes. As children squeal and squeak, as the light glows blue, colored my neon lights, as the moon in its nearly-whole state beams, the girl, a guarded-ninja by trade.... becomes the little girl she is with only her best friend in the galaxy.

She realizes, (another lightning-bolt moment) that the whole time, she's been the Real Her. She's there, in all her glory. Every ounce of the Girl. There's no fear, no holding back. The silly voices and dances and nuances are all there. There's this feeling, this feeling of complete and utter comfort. Yes, this boy is going to be one of her best friends.

A week passes, a mere seven days, and hours of conversation helps bloom a budding friendship into an explosion of unfurled petals. The girl unleashes her darkest demons on the boy, unloads trunk-loads of baggage, spews her most horrid memories, and he doesn't flinch. She unleashes her total and complete Silly Monster... and he doesn't flinch. She opens the box of Utter and Rampant Denial and refuses to admit that the boy's actually kind of ridiculously adorable.... And he doesn't flinch. And so, the dastardly dance of flirtation begins. The girl, terrified of making waves, suddenly panics.

What if, what if, what if... what if this goes all to hell?

But then a Voice of Reason (named Liz) asks back "What if it doesn't?"

Another voice. "You're YOU when you're with him. And you're not always you."
A third voice with a possible smirk. "I could get behind that."
A fourth voice, absent, detached, not in-the-know, and far away. "So, when are you two going to hook up?"
A fifth voice with a raised eyebrow. "You like him. Own it. You can't stop smiling at your phone."

And so, favoring experience over stagnancy, adventure over routine, the girl takes a deep breath, spreads her tiny muscle-barren arms, let's go of the denial and the lingering fear, and lets the monarchs take her.

To be continued.....