When I was a little girl, I would sit at the edge of my bed on a summer night, open the blinds, and look out the window. I would press the play button on the iPod once my earphones were in place, and quietly sing along to Kelly Clarkson's "Breakaway" as I rest my elbows on the window sill. I was always mesmerized by the presence of stars, the faint glow of the moon, the peaceful atmosphere the world would create at dusk. I dreamed of a world beyond closed walls, imagined my life beyond those trees rustling in the yard, envisioned the eternal happiness I would feel once I jumped over that fence and stepped into a meadow. I hoped one day, when I'm older and wiser, preferably young and eighteen, I'd finally be free.
Taking out my journal, I would quietly crack open the window, letting the cool breeze breathe life onto my cheekbones, and tickle hairs on my neck. And then the moon would listen in as I wrote, watch a child silently cry, pen trembling in hand, tears falling like rivers onto ink smudged pages until she ran out of words to say.
My mind is full of a never-ending chaos, a continuous current with no means to an end. It's like tidal waves in a storm, crashing against rocks and boulders as they drown and destroy everything in its wake. I struggle to breathe and escape from the turmoil, the ongoing debris, aching to free myself from a prison that barricades a fearful child, crying into a pit of absolute nothingness. I feel, see, and remember everything, everything all at once, consuming my soul until I'm numb, until my body is dead. It calls to me during sleepless nights, beckoning to remember it all; the pain, the past, the screams, the torture, the suffering, the silence, the cries…the violations, lies, betrayals…beckoning to remember all of it. And I keep having these dreams about them, these vivid, breathtaking, horrifying dreams about those who were taken out of my life, who left me, forgotten me, hurt me, broke me…as if my subconscious forbids itself to erase those who made promises, to always hurt the little girl inside, even after caressing her morals and sacred soul. Each night, I'm reminded of what I don't possess, of what I still struggle to face today:
Freedom.
There's a winding back road in my college town, resembling an empty highway, a beautiful escape. It was late summer, early Fall, and I had just moved into my dorm for the second time as a sophomore, now 19 years old. As the sun beats and burns against my skin, and the wind tickles the hairs on my neck, I drove down that road, windows down, music on, as if I had just taken my first breath. "Falling" by HAIM blasted through my 1997 red minivan speakers, matching the rhythm of my heart, mesmerized by the view of mountain tops and valley hills, and the smell of Mother Nature’s womb. I loved every minute of it; the way my hair flowed in the sun and whipped and spewed across my face, the way my foot rest against the gas pedal and my cheeks flush to the speed the minute I press for more. I felt alive then, happy, free, at peace with the world and myself, excited to just be.
I haven't felt that freedom in a long time, haven't felt fully content with my place in this world. Sure, I've danced in many houses, twirled underneath club lights, drank liquor and beer until the bass controlled my movements and eyes created lust. I've laid in beds, kissed lips, erotically screamed in mouths…and for some time, I believed I was content, believed that I was free and content with these people, these men. But the truth is, I wasn't. I was blinded by their bodies and false truths, attached to their hips, needing them to be my happiness, to complete this hole inside of me, one I chose to ignore.
I hope that one day, I'll be able to feel that freedom once again, to be strong enough to win the fight without being afraid of the consequences or threats that seek my mind. I hope that one day, my thoughts will calm to the soothing sounds of the sea, and never invade the present moments of bliss and serenity. I'll wave my hands out of the window, sway my arms through the wind at night, feel the music in my bones. I'll smile to the people walking on cloud 9, chuckle in the city, through the traffic, nod to the early morning birds and buzzing bumblebees. I'll let them know I exist, that I'm here to be, and I'll never stop searching for more, for joy, for forever...for freedom.