Last night I wanted to write I want to crawl out of this cage on my wrist, but it was too dark to see because it was the middle of the night.
And I was in that state where you’re too tired to turn on the light but not tired enough to fall asleep, so I didn’t turn on the light. So, I couldn’t find a pen. So I couldn’t write on my skin.
End of story.
This morning I looked in the mirror. Last night felt like a bad dream that I was still half-living in. My feelings haunted me. I noticed a black mark on my wrist in the mirror. I looked down and turned my wrist over to inspect. There scribbled in black pen ink, as if someone had written it without being able to see, was the word cage.
This evening I was thinking about my boyfriend coming over. And how my feelings start turning after the sun sets.
I’m always meanest to myself at night.
I need to laugh more. So I put on disco music while I was making coffee this morning.
I danced alone.
The thought of returning often crosses my mind. I bat it back like a tennis ball hitting a racket. I’m a pro at thought-batting. I’ve been doing it for the past twelve months.
I will always want family, I realized. Watching movies makes me know that I will always want familiar chatter in the form of many humans all crammed together on the couch, taking selfies.
And I always want to hold your hand when I walk with you. And I will always want to sled down ski hills sitting on a snowboard with you, even when others ask us why.
We sound like salsa dancing footwork and fake British accents. And apparently we fangirl over college Bible classes. We bake cookies for our friends and eat ramen with peanut butter. We hug in the elevator.
You wanted to take the dog on a one-hour walk to your apartment instead of leaving him in his kennel. You even asked your family if he could come inside even though you knew your mom would be against it.
And now it’s the middle of the night. And I can’t go to sleep again. But instead of re-carving my thoughts into the walls of my mind, I decided to let them out–really out. Instead of wishing I could, I’m going to
crawl out of the cage that I made for myself
let God unlock the cage and gently lead me out and into himself.