Good Drugs

The Possibility of You

*Audio on for song  "Way Down We Go" by Kaleo

Love is not a feeling, but yet feeling is how we measure time. - S.S

Have you ever watched something fall? and it seems to be in slow motion, as our mind connects to the movement and our reflex.

I often think of people as if they are a glass slipping from our hands.
It's the connection, the force of the object, and the shattering impact against the solid ground.

Our hands reach out desperately, trying to hold on to whatever value we placed in it, afraid to let go of the starry waters and dark blue.

Then there's the shatter, a noise we can feel in the roots of bones like sentimental tears.
We grasp, stay frozen, survey the damage, and pray that we haven't been hurt or cut by the shards around us.

catastrophe.

The tragedy is not the break but the inability to stop it.

We are the glass.

Life is the force, that pulls us down, the motion of heaviness before we land.

No matter how hard I try, I will lose you.

I looked at all the faces around me,  pale and bleak as if the colors were drawn from a straw. My mother's pensive reflection matches her cinnamon eyes and Len's enigmatic green glare.

I understood this moment was crucial.

I had to choose.

I thought about how my life had changed since Dean had come to town. He was the prayer, I had recited in my heart since I was a child. I thought about what being lonely felt like, and the feeling reminded me of sand. It was a dry grainy texture that rubbed against your fleshy, delicate, heart.

It was the quiet mourn that famished hundreds, and the feeling you get when deep down you know you'll never be loved. It was the séance of boredom, that bled the night of day.

It was the ode to the girl who has spent so much of her empty life sitting alone in her dark room with a pile of clothes and books to keep her busy.

To be honest, it wasn't a feeling, just a perpetual numb in a hollow city, where rain never ended, and drowning was a state of mind.

Call it a drug, but I couldn't go back to that feeling. For once in my life I was happy.

Do you have any idea what it feels like to be happy?

Every moment is calm like blunts rolled by clouds; ripples in the lavender blue sky, nostalgia in our eyes, and silk dreams on our lips.

I smiled, confident in my choice, "I'm going to go with Dean" I announced, grabbing the suitcase my mom had brought.

Len shook his head, stomping out of the room pissed.

My mom pulled me into her arms. She smelled like abuelita's vanilla cookies with a dash of spice. I closed my eyes, absorbing the moment, the sensation of being held tightly, the feeling of not being afraid to lose.

The warm tears stung just beneath the brim as my voice trembled, "I love you mom" I hiccuped.

"I love you more" she promised.

My fingers dug into the soft rolls of her back, like a cat.

Her hands methodically strummed against my head, parting the waves of my hair, the way she used to when I was a baby. My heart stopped racing under her touch, like Moses she calmed my storms.