Wednesday, May 11, 2011

I like to be free.

When I was a little girl, I dressed up like a princess if I felt like it. And if it rained, I played in puddles in the Georgia red clay all day long.
If I wanted to, I would run away into a book, or play detectives with my favorite friends.

Can't it all be that simple now?
I still love to dress up.
And the texture of Georgia Clay on my bare feet still makes me feel like I'm home.
I still run away, but I now I leave for different continents. And my friends and I play mafia instead of detectives.
And yet, it's not that simple. And I find that my freedom grows harder for people to accept.

Mmmmm.

Water is so dreadfully free. I sometimes envy it. The rain and its tears without remorse; without the terrible preconception that crying in public is shameful. And the rivers, they just keep going, regardless of whether the sun is having a good day or not.
If I close my eyes just right, I can imagine a me that is as free as water.

And then I open them again and see a little girl who is more scared than my seven-year-old self ever was.

Because I grew up, and when I did...my freedom went from unlimited rays into boxes of propriety.

And you see, it is not that I want to be this scandalous, indecent child. I just want to laugh and cry and run and live and love, without the feeling that someone is watching me--wanting to fix me and put me into a box that I won't fit in.

That is why no one is here. Because my freedom is too much. And since I am free, I cannot be trusted. And since I cannot be trusted, I clearly cannot be tolerated. And so beautiful evening strolls fade away I once again learn to be strong for my little free self.

But it's alright, all this freedom. For the most part, that is.

I have my days.
There are times when all I want is to be fixed. To do away with the idiosyncrasies that make me unsuitable for sharing hearts. I want to be appropriate and graceful.

But that's only sometimes, and only in moments when I absolutely need melodramatic thoughts to get through a day without breaking.

My freedom. I love it.
Without it, I suffocate and I can't function. And the only words that ever come to me are angry and annoyed, because someone is trying to take my freedom, to make it their own.

Please trust me, because when I'm in. I'm in, regardless of my rounds.

Yes, I love to be free.

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