Oh, kiss me beneath the milky twilight
Lead me out on the moonlit floor
Lift your open hand
Strike up the band and make the fireflies dance
Silver moon's sparkling
So kiss me
I just saw a bunch of fireflies in the garden. They mesmerize me. I still can't believe they produce light all on their own. And they can fly. I'm totally jealous of that. And these tiny marvels brought up memories of almost ten years ago. Fuck. It IS true that time flies. I remember listening to this song nonstop. I even got the single by Sixpence None the Richer. A Christian band, mind you. I know. B-O-R-I-N-G. But the song with its four chords was absolutely irresistible to me and I just had to have it. I guess it was the girl's voice, so eerily similar to Ana Torroja's voice or the romantic -and gloriously sappy- poetry of the simple lyrics. I don't know. I've always been a sucker for romantic stuff. And songs talking about kissing. Kissing is the best. You could totally have me if you kiss me well. Pity that does not happen often anymore.
I have also been calmer. Even here, in cyberspace, where no one can see my tears, or see me biting my nails or pacing up and down. Even here people have noticed I'm calmer. I guess it was because seven weeks ago (yes, I'm counting) I was so fucked up and all over the place. I still have those racing thoughts and moments when I absolutely and utterly fret. But it's not as bad. I am not taking any of the drugs I so fear and mistrust, either. I am taking some Ignacia and some Coffea and trying to be mindful and live in the present. But it is very difficult. Very. And today I learned that one of my very good friends (part of a group that called ourselves 'the friends' years ago and which has ever since dissolved because we live in different countries and even different continents) is taking Prozac, because he also went through a freakout and got it prescribed. It kind of made me feel accompanied but also worried. What is life and this world making of us? He's the second friend in that group that tells me that he also has had to deal with depression and that is taking al that prescription shit. I still remember how we used to sit down in a corner ice cream parlor and eat ice cream with our legs hanging on the parlor's ledge and laugh our heads off and talk about men and about life and about totally silly things, and be so uncomplicated and happy. And.. young?
Maybe it's just part of the process of growing up, I tell myself. If you know me, you know that I suffer from an acute case of Peter Pan-ism. Me and my body have officially refused to grow up for the longest time. I barely look my age and act my shoe size, so go figure. It all contributes to mask the tick-tocking of the clock but it also confabulates to make my falls more dramatic, the shocks more sound, the pain more noticeable. Maybe because I believed myself to be invincible? Invincible in the sense that I never let bitterness or fear or anger take a hold of me? Invincible because I always trusted when people told me Lady Luck was on my side and always thought things would solve out all by themselves? Because I thought I'd find love and happiness and was blind to the warnings of more cynical, worldly friends an acquaintances?
That may be why this face to face encounter with depression has been so.. well, depressing. Because I considered myself to be immune to it, like the child who had a shot and never even fears smallpox. But it was there, waiting for me around the corner of ten years. Because it's been ten years of those afternoons spent with good friends, laughing, looking at life in the face and telling her that we loved her and trusted in her being good to us.
But all is not lost. Today I saw those fireflies and thought of this song, and how I felt when I heard it for the first time, almost ten years ago. And how the image of fireflies dancing and of silver moon sparkling is still here with me. How my friends are still with me, through time and through the ones and zeros of cyberspace. How the name of that band is my now handle (modified, to fit the mood I was in when I started writing blogs for that boy who never deserved more than one of my thoughts) here. And how I started writing as catharsis. Because there were other blogs before this one. But those are hidden. One day I'll take them out for air again. But I don't write in them anymore. Because that part of my life is over. So what's the use, right?
And I want to keep thinking that there is always tomorrow to look forward to. And I want to think that there'll be more fireflies. Because there's always a Summer in our future. Or at least I really want to believe that is true.