μετάνοια

sometimes, i really miss my younger self. she was so confident. she wore her heart on her sleeve. she was relentless in the pursuit of her dreams. she would not accept no for an answer. she would be vulnerable with anyone and everyone.

now, when people ask me "what are you thinking" or even "what do you want"--my mind goes blank. i feel the heat crawl up my cheeks as i search for words. what words? i don't even know.

what do i want?

somewhere along the way, i started expecting the worst cases instead of dreaming big. i thought it was easier to believe that the answer would immediately be "no." i thought if i didn't hope, i wouldn't be blindsided. i thought if i didn't want anything, i couldn't be disappointed.

only recently, i realized how this way of thinking made me feel like i dug the hole for myself. it has prevented me from trusting people in my friendships/relationships. ultimately, it prevented me from trusting myself.

--

i fidgeted with my pants and crossed my legs, after taking a nervous sip of my drink. i felt my cheeks burn, and i braced myself for yuta's reply,

words, words, words

i save all the letters that people write to me. i see the love, time, and care it took to bring these thoughts from abstraction into physical existence, proof of our friendship. i can hold it in my hands. i can save it for a day where i feel like i am drifting, fading in and out of reality. sometimes i hang these letters by my bed, so that i can see them right when i wake up.

books, books, books

when i am lonely, i dive into my books. i swim in the comforting words printed on the pages, proof that someone else out there has felt the same things that i have felt. if fiction is a simulation for reality, then i can devour thousands of lifetimes in the hopes that i will make better decisions for my own life.

dreams, dreams, dreams

during the day, i am exhausted. despite my attempts to stay busy, with activities that i tell myself are meaningful, i still have to face my anxieties during REM. in my nightmares, i remember that i feel lost and alone.

during the day, i dream about being free from my nightmares.

during the day, i dream about love. i dream about someone loving me the way i want to be loved.

when i think about how i want to be loved, i realize that a lot of it comes from how my parents care for me and how they care for each other.

Do you ever wish that you could burn memories into your brain? Like burning a playlist onto a CD, for your crush, that will get buried in a corner of your closet. As soon as you find it again, the thoughts and feelings will rush back. Burn the surroundings, the smells, the feelings into your mind so that you can relive it again--before time and space distort the memories into unreliable chunks, basically turning them into dreams.

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I was blissfully drifting at an apartment party in Capitol Hill, happily crossed for the first time in a long time. I felt so welcome. I felt like I could breathe. The past week, I had been living the life I always wanted after graduation: working in a beautiful city, exploring with friends, taking lots of pictures.

After the sun set, people continued playing games inside. I started to feel uncomfortable, the room warm and closing in, from the realization that my flight back to the midwest was coming soon. I tried to chill out with more drinks, keep myself from any more sad or sobering realizations, but it wasn't enough.

I wandered back to the rooftop alone, not wanting to bother anyone with my thoughts. Without the music blaring, the wind howled in my ear and I strained to hear the traffic below. I plopped into a chair, almost glaring at the dazzling skyline, attempting to burn it into my memories.

I felt so alive. Energized to wander, thrown into myself, encouraged to speak what I felt. I wanted to keep that fire in my body, already worried that it was going to sputter out. I didn't want to get pulled back into the midwest and back into sleep... to wake up at thirty, still waiting. I didn’t want to waste another year trying to convince myself of ways to make it work. At the same time, I was worried that these flames, my desires, would consume me completely. Leave me with nothing.

I tried so hard to hold onto everything I was feeling in the past week. The memories were already slipping through my fingers like sand. I didn't realize my cheeks were stained with yearning, until Kev startled me. I didn't hear him sit down next to me over the roaring wind. Remembering that there was a party downstairs, I tried to wipe my face while he admired the skyline too. Hoping the city lights weren't bright enough, I prayed that he would think my eyes were glistening from the cold.

I came across someone’s substack post and this quote has been ringing in my mind since January:

“The trick is to surround yourself with people who are free in the ways you’re not.”

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Since graduation, I felt like I had to live my life a certain way to keep the peace. Whatever that peace was, it wasn’t mine. I wanted my parents to be proud of me; I wanted my brother to have someone to rely on, someone I wish I had during college; I wanted to feel like my actions were aligned with some bigger purpose. I had a falling out with God in the middle of college, but part of me still felt like there had to be a reason that everything turned out the way it did. There had to be a reason that I was living in Iowa post-graduation, reasons bigger than my individual decisions.

The summer after graduation and moving, the aerospace industry was still being rocked by COVID. I wanted to make close friends, like the bonds I had in college. My grandpa died from COVID. I didn’t feel safe in public spaces unmasked, unsure how much protection the vaccine could offer. I didn't feel like I could tell anyone how I was feeling: about graduating, about working full-time, about living in a new city, about my loneliness.

I felt like I was just existing. Floating at times. Waking up from a fever dream that was college, waking up in a body and state of mind that wasn't mine but was all I had. I felt like Stanley, stuck in a game that I didn't want to play, forced to make decisions that only led to fixed outcomes where I still wouldn't feel alive.

Fortunately, I got tired of spending days in bed. I got tired of the days blending together. I started choosing one thing to improve a week, and the weeks became months. Getting better sleep, eating at least two meals a day, eventually three, going to taekwondo, reading things I enjoyed, talking to a friend.

I started to open back up. I started to find people who were free in the ways I wasn't, in the hopes of tasting that freedom for myself. I so badly wanted to feel like I was free of my anxieties and my shortcomings.

I thought that I was finding my way back to who I was. I wanted to feel like myself again. I couldn't figure out where I began or where I got lost. I wanted to go home, but I didn't know where that was anymore or what I wanted it to look like. I am still trying to accept that I don't have to be ashamed of who I was. I don't have to start over or try to go back. Maybe I should embrace what happened, regardless of it was for a greater purpose or not.

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Recently, I broke up with my boyfriend of two years. I didn't want to disappoint him or our families...but it just wasn't feeling right for me.

Chicago