June 2, 2016

I Never Knew Life until I Made it my Own.

Samuel Castro/Unsplash

I open the door to my little apartment, greeted by a spastic feline and my retriever’s slobber for days.

Editor's Pick LogoMy legs begin to ache as they sense my bed, closer now than it has been all evening.

I make note of the quiet, the emptiness that was earlier filled by the steady hum of a crowd. The emptiness is my holy place tonight.

I walk into the restroom and make note of my reflection. What was crimson red lipstick a few hours prior is now a blush pink, and I can taste the night on my bottom lip. My lips sang and laughed with the best of God’s trusty audience as my hips swayed to the music that stirs my Southern soul. They left their mark on rims of mason jars and cheeks of strangers and midnight pavement. Kissing the ground beneath me, kissing the loves of my life around me.

I slip off my wedges that make my childlike feet ache. I pull my wild tangled mane into an even wilder mess atop my head.

I have no one to belong to, no one to answer to, no one to stand in my way. What comfort comes with knowing I am the heroine of this grand libretto.

I find my footing and walk to the middle of the living room floor, collapsing my petite frame into a human starfish, making angels with my limbs as if the carpet were Colorado snowfall in spring.

I never knew life until I made it my own. I never knew love until I became it myself.

I am intoxicated by nothing but the sound of my own music melodically soothing my every breath.

We often wonder why we feel so empty, but tonight I wonder why I feel so full.

I’ve said so many goodbyes in so little time. I’ve cried tears that seemed they would never dry. I’ve written my life down in ink on paper, but I can’t seem to remember where I placed the folder I tucked myself away in.

How beautiful it is to misplace your own story.

You will never feel guilty starting over again—this time, with no other leading role but you.

As I lie awake, my spastic feline makes a nest out of my tangled locks, and my retriever lays his head on my chest. I wonder what song my heart is dancing to tonight as I fall asleep to my own Colorado snowfall.


Author: Emily Gordon

Editor: Toby Israel

Image: Samuel Castro/Unsplash


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Emily Gordon