Duet

Write what you know. Isn’t that what they say? Write your experiences. So why can I only write about my depression or the death of my father? Shouldn’t I as a person be able to write about more than two experiences in my 18 years of life? I guess even though I say that I am on the other side of my depression, in little ways it still plagues my life in every moment. Threaded through the good moments and inviting the bad moments to be even worse. And when I say threaded through the good moments I mean that it won’t let me write about them. It wants to remain the star in all my writing even though I am a year “healed”. I want my other experiences to matter. I want… I want… I don’t know what I want other than to be happy for once. I don’t remember ever being happy. Truly unadulterated happy. My adolescent memories are filled with death and despair, bullying, and chilling darkness that overcomes most things.

I mean the word healed is a relative term. A better word would be “in remission”. I don’t know if I will ever be “healed”. I certainly know healed is not the correct word for now if this is how I still feel. It is like having an intense dance routine choreographed by my partner. I have my solo moment before I crash back into a fabulous duet with a spectacular leap in my partner’s arms where I know it will catch me.

Scene: “And in the unwavering crescendo playing it looks like the fair maiden will escape, until it crashes over her and she is stolen back into the night. Icy breath escaping her as the stars twinkle above, glittering about almost as if they are laughing at the maidens foolish escape. “