(no subject)
I went off campus to do community service today.
During break, we stopped at a children's playground.
............
I played on the swingset.
Yes. Stupid. I know.
First time on one of those things in... in damn, I can't even remember how long. I was probably eight or nine, which would make it about six years. 2/5 of my lifetime ago. And I'd forgotten I guess.
I just watched the other kids for a long time. I'm in a skirt over pants, it may look unseemly or something. It's cold and I don't feel like doing much. But I can't pull may gaze away. Can't stop staring at this rhythmic flow, pattern. Stretch. Bend. Slowly rising higher on the set until they let their feet drag, calmly waiting for the lull in the swing. Perhaps getting off if they're tired.
Finally one is open. It's open for two minutes or so before I even approach. Slow and almost cautious, wondering if I'm going to suck. If I even still know how to do this.
And the second I got on it just... all came back to me. Sunny days over sand and grass and the smell of heated greenery and pollen-filled flowers that trigger my Mom's allergies. Laughter of people not afraid to have fun and watching baseball games on the grass maybe not as far away as I remember. Seeing Mom not too far away, smiling. I'm the center of her life. And sometimes she's with Dad, when it's a weekend, then they're both smiling.
And the best part is... so am I. And even though I'm not hugging them, even though we're not chatting or playing together and Mom's telling me not to swing too high, I feel close to them. Like at any second I can leap off and run to them without being serious or afraid that I'll say the wrong thing or that I've grown up to quickly for them because I'm not. I'm this little kid playing and smiling, even as I open my eyes to a cold day in reality with teachers playing tag and what might be storm clouds overhead. I don't care. Because for a second I remembered something beautiful.
...I don't know how to get like that anymore. I can be happy. But I don't feel like I can be close anymore. Not without tears or arguements or going somewhere on vacation. Not while I'm on the computer because I'm so damn tired of the censorship of real life. Not while Mom's working her damn butt off on operas where she hardly gets paid anyway, can't take me along for fear that I'll be up too late, and she doesn't know how to say no to every new offer. Not when Dad's working late hours and is either with Mom or just as glued to the computer as I am with more work.
We're not some disfunctional family. We work together and we love each other.
...I almost wish they were there when I was. So I could have been a happy kid with them. I miss them right now, downstairs, not thirty feet from me. That's stupid.