I used to sit out on the roof at night. I would take the screen off my window and crawl through.
The sky was amazing.
There were so many stars. And I could hear the frogs croak near the lake.
I’d sit out there, listen to music – low enough that my dad wouldn’t hear it – and I would make up my own constellations
and think
dream
breathe.
My parents freaked when they found out. It was the third story, so there were two full ones below…
But I was nowhere near the edge.
And I wasn’t afraid of falling.
I was fearless.
What happened? When did that change?
I used to take chances.
I used to enjoy the awesomeness of the world.
I used to dream.
I used to have fun.
And now – I am an adult. I work. And think through everything – every little decision.
I’m not normally anxious. Situationally, sometimes. Not as a norm.
But when I look out our window now, the roof looks (is) steep. I see the concrete below.
Jeff would probably kill me for even thinking about getting out there.
Love.
I know. My parents did too.
Still do.
Which I appreciate.
But sometimes –
I miss that fearless part of me
that is muted now.