My mother has always and will forever have a terrible sense of direction.
The compass rose is irrelevant in her world; north may as well be the same thing as south, east, and west. I always thought of myself having a better sense of direction of up and down than her.
But I get lost a lot.
I am never sure which way to turn or what decision to make. My world spins at a constant rate of chaos.
It’s like staring out into the ocean,
an endless mass of blue with a wind stronger than my will and too many currents pulling me in too many directions. The sight was so small it could fit inside a shell, and whisper little secrets.
It seemed so easy to get lost in such a field of azure.
I once got lost in a pair of blue eyes.
They were hidden in a cavern of deep-set features and a smile that was almost too hard to conceal.
The lump in my throat faded and a new one appeared out of the butterflies that had gotten caught in my lungs and the small koi fish that was swimming too fast in my stomach.
I got lost in his deep conversations
that made my sorrows sink and drown away. And his waves pulled me in so fast that I was afraid of losing myself.
But I wasn’t.
Instead I found a different side of myself that was a type of happy I hadn’t felt in a while. It was one that caught herself smiling for no reason when it was late at night.
And I knew that I was slowly losing my chance.
The seconds, minutes, hours that we could just let words flow from us were grains of sand slipping through my fingers.
It’s scary how far a current can pull a person away
how pathetic that a school girl could get so lost in a pair a pair of blue eyes, and how funny that he was a ripple in my world that swept me so far from shore.
It’s funny how misaligned my compass had just become.
Had I traveled too far in the wrong direction? My compass had led me into a trap that was a pair of blue eyes that compete against my black coffee ones.
I had traveled down a current where I thought his cockiness was cute and his imperfections were just overly perfect, where his bubbling personality always shined through a timid smile.
I am a hurricane that whips and lashes out with my sharp tee
and my anger burns like the fire that is his determination. I am that storm that cleanses and renews and puts a hole through the roof. And he is the rainbow that follows behind me.
Maybe I do have my mother’s sense of direction after all.
I hate to admit I got lost, but I did so, so easily.
But I never lost myself.
I never lost my favorite song, or my favorite colors, or my favorite people. I am still the girl that laughs at her own jokes and even harder at a horrible pun.
I will always be the girl that never loses herself
Even if I get lost in a pair of blue eyes.