love finds a way in
a reflection on how the world is usually more kind than cruel since it's easy to forget that fact sometimes
It is the morning of the last day of a year that has been more cruel than kind and you are paralyzed by fear. You are back in the house that crams you back in the body of the you five years ago, back in the body of a child. In your hand is a way-too-expensive ticket to an event your parents don’t know you’re going to alone. In the room right next to yours is your own empty promise that a trusted friend was taking you and the memories of all the times you were barred from leaving because you are just a child. But you are 21 now.
You bought tickets for this thing because (1) your happiest and wildest friend from high school who you haven’t spoken to in two years and who you reached out to because you didn’t want to spend your only New Year’s as a 21 year old being lame suggested you come and (2) your happiest and wildest friend from college that you just met this year goes to a lot of these and you love this friend enough to trust him or maybe the other way around.
And so you leave the house at 7, after spending an entire day shaking because you are so scared you’ll be found out and you’re so scared that it’ll be $400 down the drain because there’s not a single universe where your parents will realize being 21 outweighs being their daughter and aren’t you scared? Aren’t you scared something will go wrong and you’ll have to admit you lied? And wouldn’t this admittance be more an admittance that you have always felt the need to lie more than just the simple lie itself? But fear means nothing in the face of reality and you are sitting in a taxi barreling down the highway, the house where you are a child far behind you.
The crowd isn’t as tightly packed as you expected, but the alcohol was also cheaper than you’d thought it would be so at least the universe still remains balanced on this side of the world. It’s cold, but alcohol works fast, and suddenly you’re aflame on the dance floor. And in this huge crowd, you are so small, but it feels so large. And you realize no one is looking at you and maybe every fear you have ever had has all been in your head and maybe this is what freedom feels like: leaping into the air alongside all the others on the dance floor.
And eventually you dance into a girl that notices you are alone and asks if you want to stay with her. And you are once again reminded that the world is filled with kindness. You are reminded of the last concert you went to. How a girl saw you almost being trampled and pulled you out of the mosh pit, her hands warm and strong. And you think how if this has happened twice now, it means it is less a coincidence and more a truth. And maybe people want to be kind or people are kind or it doesn’t matter which of the two it is because kindness is out there.
So you let this girl drag you around the arena, hand in hand, and maybe “let” is the wrong word because her hand is so warm and her kindness is so warm and you are so, so grateful in this moment. It will be cold again in the morning, but you vow you will remember this kindness and hold it close. You vow you will remember every kindness that comes your way from now on, collect them like pressed flowers in a notebook. You vow to remember every kindness that happened this year because there have been so many and maybe the world is more kind than cruel and even if it’s been a bad few months, tonight has been beautiful and you are still alive. And how beautiful being alive is, in this moment.
And suddenly they’re playing a song your happiest and wildest friend from college showed you a month ago. And you scream over the song “I know this one!” to your new friend and you’re still dancing while waving your camera around wildly to send him a video. And in the background is the faint voice of your new friend cheering you on and the lights are so vibrant and you are so full of joy and light. You send him the video and a text: when you love the world, the world loves you back. You’re drunk when you send it, but you’ll read it again when you’re sober and feel the fluorescent light against your cheek as if it never left.
Near midnight, you and the rest of the dance floor count down the seconds to the new year. You are standing hand in hand with a pretty girl in a city that used to be home but is now an entire country away. It doesn’t matter. You are standing hand in hand with a pretty girl and this year that has been more cruel than kind has also been so filled with love. 10 seconds left. You think of all the new loves that you have found this year. 7 seconds. The friend that bought you a small birthday cake when she heard you hadn’t made plans for your birthday. 4 seconds. The friend that wrote you an entire list of movies and shows to watch when he learned it had been the only effective distraction. 2 seconds. The friend that drove 15 miles twice on your worst nights to make sure you would be ok.
It is midnight and the world is full of love. It is midnight and you text every group chat you are in “I love you all” and every group chat echoes back “we love you”, “we love you”, “we love you.” And normally you would let your heart fall through your hands like sand, but tonight there is a whole beach and you are lying in the center of it and you can finally feel how warm the sand is. You swear to yourself that even if the sand falls through your hands again, you will never stop trying to scoop it back up. You owe the world this much. And you love the world and the world loves you back.
Eventually, you will go home. You will sneak back in through the back door and collapse on your bed. Your ears will be ringing, but it will sound like music. Your throat will be in your chest from maybe the alcohol and maybe the nerves, but you will be able to swallow it. You will fall asleep to the sound of ringing in your ears and when you wake up, the house doesn’t seem so small anymore. The house will still try to cram you into the body of a child, but your heart is too big to fit inside this body so it will give up.
You get out of bed. The rest of the house is still silent, so you stand alone in the kitchen. You peel two oranges. One for your mother and one for your father (who has never peeled an orange for you). You think about all the wreckages in your life. And you remember, even in wreckage upon wreckage, love always finds a way in.
very beautiful and raw.
oh how the familiarity in this piece felt like a hug 🫂