Would you mind sharing something to help me get a little hope back? I need some in my life right now, if it doesn't bother you.
Today it snowed in my hometown and I woke up to children shouting in the streets, and when I walked to the park, a group of kids were taking turns sledding down the hill on a trashcan lid. All the snow blew in and covered up the mud and debris, and those kids were so happy, perched like tiny birds on the top of that hill, flying down on their shiny silver sled.
I live with a girl named Leni, and on New Year’s Eve, she took me to a concert and she and her boyfriend tried to find me a midnight kiss because they didn’t want me to be alone, but instead of kissing someone, I stood on the pews at the edge of the room while the gospel of a countdown sounded, and I watched a hundred people kiss each other to the music of The Egotones, a local band dabbling in psychedelic tunes, and I felt no loss. This is so achingly new to me, to, for the first time, feel free standing in a crowded room, hosting a conversation only with myself. Afterwards, we went to Shari’s, and I ate half of Leni’s pancakes, and I watched her lay her head on her boyfriend’s broad, safe shoulder, and there was an undeniable tenderness between them that I saw but did not envy, because it was beautiful but it must be so hard to stay soft like that.
Leni went to the park with me today and tried sledding down a hill on a tin baking pan from our kitchen, but mostly she tripped and tumbled over herself, and in her wake, the pan left grease smears on the powdery snow. Leni is a very brave person, and she has a lot of light in her, and I like to think she left some smears of that in the snow as well, for the bird children to pick up and bring home with them after they’ve finished flying for the day.
There is an undeniable tenderness in the world, in the way it rotates, and I do not envy it, because it must be so hard to stay soft like that. But, I swear, it is beautiful, and it shines like Leni and the bird children and the silver sled of the trashcan lid, which I picked up from its place in the snow, dented at the rim, and brought home.
This is to say, I wish you well; I hope you are filled with the most tender light.