Limerence • h.s.

01

When I dream of my future, I picture myself as a confident woman who has everything she could ever want. I picture blue skies and open fields. I picture daffodils surrounding me as I lay in the grass, trying to find shapes within the clouds. I see my journal, accompanied by the dark green ink pen I would not dare part with. I hear the hum of birds in the trees as they speak to one another, chirping back and forth.

I smell fresh cut grass, wafting through the air by the soft wind that graces effortlessly over my skin. I feel the grass on my fingertips and the gracious sun that covers my skin in warmth. I hear no other voice, except my own as I hum a song I've known for years.

There is no one around to see me, to make me feel as though I am not enough. No one to leave my skin burning or my thoughts running around frantically. No one to raise their voice as they comment on my appearance or actions. No one to tell me I am undeserving of the peaceful environment. No one to bother me. No one. I am alone.

A dream is nice, it's easy to think about. But it is not the truth or the reality of my world. Instead, I am just me, without all of the things that make me myself. I go each day stuffing it down deep beneath the surface of my mind. I am just a girl in a town far from the peace I crave, with no one in my corner to make me feel worthy. Well, except for my dear Megan.

"Well, do you?"

I snap my eyes from the view beyond the car window. "Sorry, what?"

Megan chuckles as she pulls her eyes from mine, looking back towards the road.

"Do you ever think about what we could do with a manager? I mean, we're good but no one knows that." She says, flicking the ash from her half-smoked cigarette out the window.

"And where are we going to find this said manager in Aberdeen, it isn't like we have the funds to travel to one." I steal a cigarette from her, igniting it with her mini blue lighter.

"If we played more shows, we would have more eyes on us and more money. You're the one who never has the time."

I roll my eyes at her comment. "If I could spend as much time out of the house as I do in it, you know that I would take up the offer in a heartbeat. Jackson hates when I'm gone."

"Jackson could come with you if he cared enough to support you. I will never understand why you entertain him still, especially when he doesn't even support your dream."

My dream. As if it's obtainable for my hands.

"Love works in mysterious ways." I inhale the smoke after speaking the truth of my mind because I also can't help but wonder why I'm with him sometimes.

"Love doesn't work at all, that's the catch that no one seems to be understanding." Megan is never afraid to speak her mind. She has been my best friend since middle school and has always been my partner in everything. I sometimes wonder how I haven't gotten sick of her over the years. Ten years of sharing my laughter with her, sharing almost everything with her.

"Maybe that's the point, maybe if it doesn't work then there's no expectation or pressure. Maybe that's the key to not feeling miserable." She laughs.

"Are you miserable, then?"

I shake my head, exhaling a gray mess of smoke from my lips. "Not all of the time."

"You shouldn't be miserable at all. You're 22 years old and you're in a band with your best friend. Your life is what others dream of." I let out a small laugh in response.

I tell Megan nearly everything about my life, but I would never dream of sharing details of my relationship with her. She thinks I'm a strong girl, that I should be happy, and she fights to see my confidence bubble out of me. But that just isn't where I'm at right now. I'm quiet, shy, and miserable. Sometimes.