Star-people

This started as a message to someone who I knew would understand. Now here it is. Out there! On the internet! For all eyes to see!

I woke up feeling like I was back in high school, my mother's heels clicking their way up the stairs to wake me. I hid under the covers like I used to, but instead of making me go to school, she took me to lunch.

Last night I was sad, for a lot of reasons. I circled the city more than once but I never worried about being lost, this city was my home for twelve years. Instead of being worried I was admiring the beauty of sky scrapers lit from the inside, towering over people walking on the streets, sleeping on church steps, spending money or begging for it. I thought about happiness and what it means and how to get it. It never seemed more difficult than it does now to be happy, for me anyways. But I think that has a lot to do with the fact that I'm a little lost, and a little forgetful.

So I bought the sequel to my favorite book, Stargirl. She always reminded me of myself. Weird and quirky and finding magic in everything. Accepted by few, rejected by many, understood by next to no one. But it didn't matter because she was happy, and was content to meditate in the desert and search for enchanted places and sing all day long.

I guess I was hoping that the sequel would remind me of how to get back to being that girl. It's helping more than I imagined, isn't that silly? It's very strange. Because in this book she's sad too, and trying to remember herself.

I don't know if happiness is a choice or not. I know it's different for everyone. I think I miss the world. Somewhere along the way I forgot it was my friend and it was magic and beautiful. Somewhere along the way I got jaded and didn't even realize it. But I think that I can remember what I loved so much.

I'm having lunch with the first boy I ever loved on Saturday. He has since become a very close friend and it will be good to see him. Maybe like stargirl he can remind me of who I used to be, and why I loved the world the way I used to.

I'm not looking for a time machine, just for reminders, porch lights of friendly neighbors helping light my way back to myself.