everything is perfect now

to be fair, i wasn’t born into elitism. it was planted in me by a larger force than i, or anyone for that matter, could plan or mold.

those innate thoughts and feelings began to grow when i had my first sip of a deeply tannic and robust red wine. my eyes widened and soul awakened to the possibility i was, in fact, living out what i’d always dreamt of. that i, though starting small and slow, was living out what i’d always envisioned for my future.

***

peering at my early 1900s blue farmhouse with a wraparound porch is where it began. i was a girl who, by birth, felt misplaced in her environment. though i adore my family, i never felt quite at home among the bugs and crops. i remember walking at night on the dirt roads and gazing up towards the stars, pretending they were city lights. i pretended that i could hear cars honking and generators humming. oftentimes, as i drifted away to my dreams, i felt suffocated by the silence. i could hear for miles and miles. i longed for symphony of the city that i knew nothing of.

i repeated so many times, “i won’t live here forever. i’ll live among the lights.”

my family rarely took note of my precociousness. slowly i pulled myself into a quiet and secret city of the mind. i never lost faith, but i learned to fulfill my roles in life and keep my wanderings tucked away, only allowed to frolic in precious moments of solitude. those became my favourite times. those perfect and wonderful times.

the sun would rise every day on our bustling farm.

my family sent me to fetch eggs from the hens and to herd the cattle for milking as they giggled and mused over my oddities. they boasted pitchers of iced tea and homemade pie and were filled with happiness. they taught me to operate larger machinery for crop gathering while proclaiming, “it’s just a phase. she’ll love it here just as much as we do.”

those things built in me traits i couldn’t have paid for in the city. they taught me a way of life i couldn’t be me without.

the decisions i make throughout my days that build my existence are fraught with meaning and seasoned by introspection and love. my life is full of livelihood, not consumerism.

i collect things full of beauty–things charged with truth and depth.

i’d like to say i chose this for myself. however, that would be a lie.

as a human i’m afforded a certain amount of self-control. beyond that–the part of me that indelibly longs for the intoxication life offers–that part is what makes me bonnily human.

***