My life is over. My life as a student at WWU, as a LGBT program coordinator, as a young gay college girl: over. Melissa and I are so, so over, despite December's little mishap. And Amber, my best friend, is gone because her life is even more chaotic and heartbreaking than mine.
I hate that the life I loved only exists inside my head, in little snippets of memory. Jenny and I at the 'Shoe, stoned and drunk and I was coming out to her and she held me and said, me too, girl. Me too. Melissa and the passion that used to ignite between us. Days spent in her bed in long Bellingham winters. The pride I felt, the way I walked upright from class to class, feeling like I was someone. So self-important, my little job that made me feel so empowered. Directed. Free. The girl who studied theory and history and crushed on her lesbian professor(s). Walking in the crisp morning from the house on Iron Street to buy coffee or bagels, or walking on summer days through downtown. Caitlin and I as new Fairhaven students, going to poetry nights and salsa dancing and feeling like the world was so so full of possibility.
That life is over.
& now I'm here. I'm 23 years old and live with my parents in a rural area. I work at fucking Auntie Anne's Pretzels at a mall.
So much for all of those possibilities.
I hope I'm not one of those people who never gets over their college years, the best years of their lives. Those two years were the best years of my life so far.
Please tell me I will feel joy again. Feel empowered, feel directed, feel free. That I will remember, someday, who it is that I am. Because right now, I don't remember.