Welcome to my corner of the universe.
Sit, and have some tea. Or a cheeseburger. Or the remains of a broken heart.
We won’t judge, I promise.
Stay awhile. Let this be your corner of the universe too. Somewhere that you can be the you I don’t know, and I can be the me you don’t know and we can be the we no one knows.
It’s a place, when I’m laughing or lonely, that we can let the tears drip like a dew from spider webs and stain our cheeks like mud on white pants. Together we can watch the flowers grow and the garden flourish.
It’s a place you can chip off the mask that’s super-glued to your face and wear sweats and fill the cracks that come from sitting in a classroom all day and having to answer a multiple choice question from 1 of the 4 solutions they provide. I won’t make you use duct tape and prayers, even though we’re taught those fix everything.
It’s a place we can fall in love at 17. And even though we won’t be able to explain it, I believe our hearts all got a 36 on the ACT. And holds still onto all the truths we let slip through our veins when we erased the doodling on the side of our math homework and studied for the ap psychology test which we all failed anyways.
I’d rather you not wipe your shoes on the mat outside or knock before entering. I want the gritty pebbles from the bottom of your shoes and the disheveled state of array your hair prefers. But please, scrape off the caked-on make-up and unroll the tape that holds you together. I want real. And I’ll tell you what. You give me that, and I’ll give you me. The real me that loves to talk but is afraid that people would rather listen to silence. The me that cries when they laugh to hard because maybe it’s the only way tears can breathe. The me that is terrified of introductions but craves knowing your story. The real me.
So welcome to this teeny tiny corner that we dare to call our universe.
