We climbed the rocky hill covered in ice. Once on top we watched the sun rise over the town we spent the entire night bitching about. And for a moment I realised that there’s beauty in even the ugliest things, if you dare to look close enough. It’s so easy to hate, and much harder to enjoy the things around you. Why is that?
I tasted scotch and bile burn the back of my throat, and didn’t much mind. It hurt to swallow even hours later. I hadn’t slept in 24 hours, which wasn’t a long time for me by any means, but still made me feel light, careless, and lose any sort of a filter I typically had. It was the sort of night when you have heart to hearts and ground breaking psychological breakthroughs, but forget about them after a short nap and a roll of TUMS.
I dozed off, forgot my pen was still writing and bleeding through the receipt, in the backseat. Elton sang about being a Candle in the Wind and I didn’t remember what that meant, but I felt like it was about me. I can’t listen to anything with any sort of distance, I feel connected to every word sung.
“We should hang out more often.”
A phrase notorious for being said before never hanging out again. We dropped off a third of our trio and after making my way to the passenger seat we took off again. The sun was just burning through the clouds as we passed countless fields and farms, and as quickly as I had fallen in love with this country town I came to resent it once again.
Kalie and I sang loudly “Blue jean baby, L.A. lady, seamstress for the band / Pretty eyed, pirate smile, you’ll marry a music man.” It hurt to sing, but I didn’t care, I continued to squawk along with Kalie and Elton.
I felt safe but not secure. I felt safe with Kalie, but not secure with my current contentment. Being content had always been a burden on me. To feel content made me anxious, I was always waiting to be angry or sad again, waiting for the contentment to end.
However, for a moment, a moment captured on a WalMart receipt in my flowery words, I was content. I was light and careless and the scotch burned and I didn’t mind. I made a promise long ago, that when I had no worries in the world, I would acknowledge that, and I did. And that’s all I can do.