Penny For Your Thoughts

 A few weeks ago, I found myself in a daydream about years ago when I learned about her and her spirit and her love and her life. I don't know why. But I prayed for her, and I prayed for him, because I still believe they were soulmates. The next morning, I saw the sun rise in a shade unlike most sunrises, one that was indescribable and that could not be captured by a camera. And I said good morning to her in the sky, without knowing her, without knowing him now, with nothing but remembrance, with wishes of peace for souls. The grief was never mine, but I still feel it. He always belonged to her blue eyes. -Emma Lancaster

 From my repressed memories: I would sit on the balcony of a Florida hotel and watch the stars shine over the ocean while waiting to live and die with each buzz of my phone. It was a secret, one that would hurt us both.  He told me I was mature for my age and said he wanted to be my first kiss, and I agreed with him. He got Pineapple Crush from the Casey's in his one-horse town and told me that it was good and that I should try it. He went for a run and sent me a selfie of himself all sweaty, and I was impressed that he cared about his physical health, and I was glad to see his face because I was young and I thought a selfie sent to my phone meant something, I was sitting on the balcony of a Florida hotel and watching the stars shine over the ocean when we accidentally stumbled into it being more than just becoming friends. The woman who is now pregnant with his third child was just a blip in the back of his mind, a name he had met at his college orientation whenever he said t...

From my repressed memories:  I put Instagram on my little laptop so I could still text him even after my phone was put away at night. He would have hard nights and it was my job to be there. I would wake up at 6:30 every morning, and I would waste my mind away on physics and reading and the densities of academia. I would go for a run after school, I would eat like a bird, and I would go to drama club. I would get home, and he would be waiting with a sadness that we weren't meant to carry. At 1 in the morning, I would fall asleep by flesh and not by choice. At 6:30 in the morning, I would wake up to anger, to accusation of abandonment, to an adversary who accused the flesh of acting like flesh. -Emma Lancaster

From my repressed memories: It was after 11pm and I was supposed to have put my phone away for the night already.  But I knew he wasn't okay. His dad was drunk and he wanted to leave. He told me it wasn't the first time he left. I had to sleep. I found out the next morning that he saw 3am on a public park bench because it was safer than his childhood room. I told him to just show up at my parents' house the next time he needed to, but he never did. He ended up like his dad. -Emma Lancaster

 From my repressed memories: Except this one is less repressed because it comes back when I least expect it to. There are 37 seconds of singular piano-keyed notes at the beginning of Runaway that make their way into social media posts all the time. Every time, I'm transported to being 18 and sitting on the floor in the hallway of my college dorm with my headphones on and the volume up high, knowing somewhere inside me that he wasn't going to call that night.  I had never witnessed the grief of love lost before, and certainly not from the perspective of being the first girl who came after.  I was pushed away so many times, and I should have listened.  Hurt people hurt other people, and we were each both. I just cared, I think.  Everyone deserves someone who cares, even if they don't want it. -Emma Lancaster.

From my repressed memories: He told me that one time, they were fighting. They both cried, but the song was Violent Crimes by Kanye. And suddenly, he held her, and it helped. But then she was gone, his angel by her choice. Don't you grow up in a hurry, turned into not growing up at all. -Emma Lancaster

 From my repressed memories: It was raining that day, hard. He came up to the front door of the house, the door that we never use. He brought an umbrella with him, which was sweet. If you put two people under an umbrella, they usually both still get wet.  We were going to see a movie. It was my first real date ever, but we weren't calling it a date. He said we were still a touch too young to call it that. We got popcorn. It was a decent movie. I had my head on his shoulder for most of it. I got home, and I was excited when I realized that my shirt had picked up the scent of his. He wore a red flannel and jeans with grey, black, and white Nike shoes.  It was still raining when he drove me home. -Emma Lancaster

From my repressed memories: I hit the button for the first floor. "I've never kissed anyone in an elevator before," he said as he slowly pushed himself away from the elevator wall opposite me. "I haven't either." "So what if..." he trailed off as he walked towards me and reached for my face. We were on our way downstairs so we could go for a midnight walk by the lake. Or maybe we had just come back from the lake. I can't seem to remember. There was lightning over the lake, but it was not raining. I could not hear the thunder.  I wish I could have. And hours later, he texted me the song that sang,  baby you're like lightning in a bottle i can't let you go now that i got it and all i need is to be struck by your electric love -Emma Lancaster

 i have "anxiety" and that's a word that has given me a reason but not an answer but not a fix but not  a way to cope but not peace but not hope -Emma Lancaster