or when the two things that hurt the most are what bring you back down.
the first incident which let a bit of air out of my depersonalizing balloon occurred as i broke back into the pages of the way i used to be. as i read the words, one after another, the bricklike weight of each of them jerked on my balloon.
it sank a little bit, and i fell into the book, my toes tickling the pages.
later in the afternoon, as all of the girls and guys of the musical's cast waited for our music to start, i caught a glance of raquel jones. hidden behind one of the right wing's curtains as she waited like the rest of us. she looked like she wanted to disappear into the purple grand drape.
"you good, raquel?" i asked, even though it was an obviously stupid question.
my balloon sank farther into my body as i realized the despair-like look on her face. she didn't look at me in the face, and i knew the feelings she felt. "i'm so tired."
over the course of rehearsal, every time she mentioned wanting to die, i wondered how true her words were, or if they were just joking words.
i found it so strange that something so sad brought me back into my skin, at least for a while. perhaps it was worrying about people i cared about that grounded me, made me feel like everything was real.
YOU ARE READING
Smart Girl
Non-Fictionthoughts from the smart girl. //the journal of wren// //highest rank #2 in non fiction// //all names of real people interacted with here are altered from their original versions for privacy's sake//
