A Million Miles Away

November has not been kind to some of the people I consider most dear. Well, November was sort of an ass to me last year, so I'm going to do a little Q&A (with my current self and my year-ago self), in the hopes of comforting anyone else in the throws of November blues. My year-ago self will be asking the questions: 

     Q: “Is there something wrong with me?”

     A: No. Nothing is wrong with you. I know you haven't showered in a few days, so let's start there. Take a shower. Wash your hair really well and then sit in a towel, on your bed, for as long as you need. You might sit for 2 minutes, or 2 hours – both are ok because you're in good company when you're all alone. Hang out with yourself, and take notes. You are going to see what you're made of; you're made of the same stuff that Plath, and Hughes, and Collins are made of. Get to know them too, go ask them what to do, and see what the feelings you're feeling look like written out. See that you can be all crying, and Doc Martins, and head-in-books or under-covers, and only in black, and too many trips to In'n'Out, and friends with your sister and your sister only for a few months. You'll catch fire again.

     Q: “How come no one ever stays?”

     A: I don't know. I still can't tell you why some people stay and some people don't. But look, that question is broken anyway, because a few people do stay. I know that he didn't, but think about who did and who will always. He didn't stay because he couldn't stay. There are only a few people who are cut out for you; there are only a few people that were cut out with the scissors sharp, and the table perfectly level; only a few people that you will be able to stick in that book you always carry. Remember, if they don't stay, it's because they weren't supposed to. If their feet shake or their hands quiver or their voice falters at loving you, let them go. Someone particular will stay, and they will be so good at loving you.

     Q: “Will someone ever want me the way I want them?”

     A: No. Nobody will ever want you in the precise way that you want them, but someone will want you. They will want you in a way that you can never understand. I know you think that they're a million miles away. I know. They're not that far though, they live on the very same planet as you. They will want you precisely and exactly how you are meant to be wanted. They will want you for freckles you never even noticed and notes you couldn't hit before. You will want them in that different and exact way too. You'll be in a dark room and you'll make sense to each other. Okay?

Waiting is hard. A year feels like a very long time today. A year feels like forever when it's 3 in the afternoon and you've got homework and all you want to do is sleep. A year feels like forever when it's 3 in the morning and you are so alone – more alone than anyone, because everyone else is asleep and how can it be possible that anyone has ever felt this way or ever cried this much? A year is not that long. A year is just a fourth of high school, and just half of a mission, and only a very tiny and almost unmentionable blink of your whole heap of life. It is just a little wait. 

So, listen to The Moon Song, and smile. Wait for that look, and smile.