Yesterday I had a dream (among other weird and vaguely unsettling dreams—gang torn, segregated Harlem, I’m looking at you). There’s this girl, and she’s trapped in a house. There are two goons in black and white suits trying to kill her. They’ve been ordered to do so. They stalk the house waiting for their moment. She knows that she is in imminent danger, and the way out looks bleak. Another woman is added to the house, and the first girl, feeling solidarity, tries her hardest to get both of them out of the situation. What she doesn’t know is that the second girl is a ploy and has been sent there to help bring the first girl to her death. But she is racked by the weight of this guilt, unable to express the betrayal, she just sits on the floor of the upper level of the house, paralyzed. The first girl decides it’s fight or die, and she chooses to fight. (This is where some weird dream logic is going to be added.) Both the girls have special (and fashionable) belts that give them an upgrade—I don’t remember what the first girl’s belt did or what it provided her with, maybe it was a shield of sorts that they needed to get off of her. But the second girl had a belt that had written on it ‘flower power’ (corny, I know). The first girl takes this belt from her, hoping that it will give her some sort of power to fight off the guys waiting for them downstairs.
And this is where the dream gets meta. At this point, I, as the dreamer, am vaguely aware of the situation at hand. I am watching this girl trying to fight for her life, yelling 'flower power', trying to make anything happen. She’s fighting a losing battle, but she can prolong evading the guys waiting to kill her. I can prolong the guys waiting to kill her, but then I would have to watch her suffer indefinitely, always in torment, always afraid, but still she would be alive. I had to a choice to make when I don’t usually have choices in dreams, to continue her torment or end it.
So in the haze of control, I decided to end the dream, and I had to watch them kill her. I didn’t enjoy it, but I knew there was only one way out, and it needed to end. Which is the moral dilemma behind it all. Is it better to live in torment and live or to die and end it?
It just felt so necessary to have an ending, even if it wasn’t one that I wanted.
I’m approaching yet another ending. Summer is fleeting, for me at least. This week, I pack up twice—from New York to Maryland—and from Maryland to Massachusetts. I have to count myself lucky that all my endings have been at a good point. The alternative is and would be so much worse. I had this thought settled in my head that New York, in the end, wasn’t for me, wasn’t the place for me to spend my youth. Because I haven’t been the me I remembered being in London. I’ve made so many strides this year, and talking to Alyssa, I’ve realized that I’m comparing incomparable things. My growth in London can’t be replicated here because growing doesn’t work linearly. And I had already made up my mind a month ago, but now that I’m here at the end, I’m not sure that I was right at all.
I write this in the peak of a cold, coughing every second, and drinking tea to soothe my chest. I had to splurge and spend $40 on the really good medicine so I could thug it out for me and Maya’s going-away party tonight.
I said to myself, I haven’t grown in the ‘Big Apple’. That I haven’t put myself out there more, or made more music, or written more pieces. But that’s really just summer. I was overzealous to blame so much on a place I’ve only been in for 2 1/2 months. As things are, I’ve realized a lot about myself. About the alone time I actually enjoy when I have freedom at my disposal. And like London, I’ve met so many amazing people once again.
When I meet people whose company I enjoy, I latch on like a docking spaceship onto a bigger satellite. I latch, but I won’t click unless the alignment is perfect. In the past week, I’ve met so many people I would kill to get to know better. And yes, it’s sad that I’m leaving, and I can’t for sure know if these people feel that pull that I do to want to see them again. But all I can do is try and try to make it known. I understand I ride this line of seeming clingy and wanting to reach out and make connections. It’s why I’ve banned myself from randomly insta-dming people I’m interested in (first) — the ‘first’ is very important because I love random messages, but historically this has never worked for me, and there’s only so many times you can repeat a mistake before it’s no longer a mistake and just embarrassing.
I want to be optimistic and hope that my leaving isn’t the end of these budding relationships I made, and that if I find myself back in New York, we could pick up where we left off, and that they would want to. But that kind of assurance only comes around through mutual understanding and love. The problem, in part, is that I always have so much love to give and will always give it. I can only hold out and hope that the future is well. I can’t make any promises
As I leave, I also leave behind the only boy on the hinge I have gone three dates with. Who is so kind and sweet and makes me painfully awkward than I usually am. I think about him, and all I have is this deep admiration for how whole of a person he is and how the next person he meets would be so, so lucky to have him in their lives. There is no future for us, and I knew that for a really long time. There was no chance of hooking up or anything along those lines, weirdly, that seems impure to put those desires onto him, which is why I know we haven’t spent enough time together for me to strip him down to the human basics of desires. I wish him all the best and am endeared to his love of movies that mirrors mine.
In a way, I mourn all the people I’ve met and refused to let go as passersby and condemned them to the graveyard that is my Instagram dm’s. That random guy I met from UMD or the niche micro rattail musician. The girls I met in line or at an event, bellbottoms who I’m not sure still has a girl but texted anyways because I was drunk, or the acquaintances that I want to become friends with so I try to play cool so I don’t seem overbearing and am left with conversation stoppers lying dead in their tracks met with a seen or a reaction emoji.
But I appreciate mourning the way that I appreciate embarrassment. It means there was something meaningful to chase and to leave behind. Sometimes all you can do is mourn good times, even though they were good.
This is a year of goodbyes, but I would be lying if I didn’t admit I always loved the death in it. One of my favorite cards in the tarot deck is XIII DEATH. Not in a cryptic emo sort of way, but because it always means new beginnings.
I was going to wait to post this post until after I saw the Jeff Buckley movie 'It’s Never Over, Jeff Buckley' tomorrow, and after we had thrown our going away party to give some perspective, but I am deeply and always impatient.
This is my last side note, but last night, congested with my cold, I was thinking about alcohol. I don’t know if I can say this past month has been the most alcohol I’ve consumed because I’ve had some pretty nonstop weeks in London, but I’ve had a lot of alc (sue me) recently. And it made me realize that my alcohol knowledge is built on other people. Alcohol has always been a blank slate for me. Gross liquors that taste like death and things to scarf down to make Western Massachusetts college parties bearable. But I have this list of associations in my head that I accidentally made, and here it is
☆ Pacificos - First time I had one was last week, when I went to buy more beer for a house party I was at. Zoe was waiting for her bus, but she tagged along with me to the corner store. I asked her what I should buy, which is kind of a hit or miss question for me to ask Zoe, but she pointed at the Pacificos and said that only people with taste buy those. So I bought them.
☆ Guinness - Will always remind me of Vivian (the German). I broke my Guinness virginity with her at a pub on the edge of Victoria Park. We sat at that pub for hours just talking and her telling me about her love triangles and so many other things. It was a really pivotal moment in our friendship. It’s quite honestly the only beer she drinks; she cannot do lagers.
☆ White wine - also Vivian, when she wasn’t drinking Guinness, it was always a white wine, plus she HATED red wine.
☆ Amaretto Sour - The first time I had one was also this summer. Alyssa put me on. She said it used to be her go-to drink, and it’s like really yummy. I think it was our first official drink together, and it was the night we joy bonded. Now we just randomly love bomb each other.
☆ French 75 - Also had my first one with Alyssa, but more so I’m reminded about how my roomate Aurdey told me she got too drunk in France off of these
☆ Beef Broth Shots - I took these with Alyssa and Audrey, and two of us would say they were horrendous and bad, and Alyssa would just say they were amazing.
☆ Soju - The first time I had soju Lia brought it for us. So they are forever interwined with the memory of her. But among that, it really reminds me of London and Maya’s dorm at UCL. It reminds me of London, Lana, and Maya.
☆ Tequila - This reminds me of Alyssa because she cannot tolerate it in any form. If tequila touches her lips, she’s going down.
☆ Vodka - This reminds me of a plethora of people, including Sophie. Very much Smith College coded. But most of my friends are committed that they will never again do shots of vodka.
☆ Moscow Mules - Lana is a big fan of these, or she was when we were in London. I think it’s one of the first drinks she learned how to make on her bartending journey. I think of her whenever I order one, and it’s such a safe bet because they never usually taste horrendous.
☆ G&Ts - This was Maya’s go-to for a bit in London, easy to make, easy to drink. I think of her when I order one.
☆ Aperol Spritz - Zoe again. We had an Aperol spritz run that ended in Berlin night after night getting drunk off of 3 euro spritz. Too much.
☆ Sangria - I am reminded of Spain. Maya and Maya, Bridgit, Zoe, and Vivian. Such a fun and festive drink. We were all chasing the feeling of summer then, I’m sure of it.
☆ Beerita - This is Maya’s (J) specialty. She made it for us at this hangout in Victoria Park. A crazy hot day in London (it was probably only 70), but me Vivian and got so drunk and it was just so peaceful and nice.
☆ Blue Moon - This reminds me of Alex and Paul. The weekend our band had our first gig, we were shuffling through names, and Paul had come to visit. I wanted so badly to see Sapien Joyride because of my celebrity crush (a white masc, let’s not speak of it) and Alex and Paul offered to go with me. We never made it outside of Wilson House. But we had heard tales of a secret catering kitchen with all the alcohol you can imagine from a secret staircase. We eventually found it and stole some blue moons to get drunk off of, maybe along with other stuff. It was a really chill night, odd in so many ways, but nice in others
☆ These random canned flavored margaritas - AC was fiending over these things at this house party. I have no clue what brand they were, but they were so good.
☆ Bailey’s - This will probably always and only remind me of my brother and his wife. This was like one of the only times I’ve drunk alcohol with an adult, and it was cute having that moment with them
I’ve said goodbye to a lot of these people, will say goodbye to others. But there are a lot of hellos on the way (cheesy cheesy). But if you made it this far, true dedication on your part, thank you!
So I preemptively say goodbye to this chapter in life and wait for the next goodbye to hit me.
All 2real. can't wait to drink more g&ts w you!!!!!!
This came out exactly right. Love you!