Never be cautious.

Have no fear.

Never compete with friends.

Get yourself out there, risk all, and get hurt.

Don’t protect your heart, but protect your body.

The Five Rules Of Hopeless Romanticism

Chapter 1: Circus arts, aerial dance, and how it changed my life. Also, the chapter in which I meet that boy.

Ever since I was little, I’ve know that all my real feelings are in some other, more fantastic dimension, and that until I get there, I’ll never be able to truly feel. I mean, I do feel normally. I feel great happiness, I feel great sorrow, and I feel frustrated and bored and lonely sometimes. But somehow, that’s not what I mean by real feelings. What I mean is that, sometimes, riding on the bus or walking down the street I’ll be struck with this feeling, as if nothing is real. I’ll get this… swirling, like I want to laugh, or cry, or write, or dance, or fly… And those feelings seems so much more real, almost as if I can just reach through this world, I can find them all somewhere. The other feelings, however real they may seem, always seem to leave me with a sour taste in my mouth and a slight stomachache. Even, I am discovering, feelings of love… It bothers me. It’s like a reminder that chemicals create all my feelings. Sure, my brain can feel… but can my soul?

Okay, let’s take a moment and step away from the annoying teenage confessional musings. Let’s step away and tell you who I really am. I’m not really some boringly angsty girl with an unexplained theory that she’s some sort of otherworldly creature. Because most of the time, I’m not. Who I am is McKenzie Newitt, though most of the time people call me Kenzie, or even Kenz. I’m doing my best to be an interesting person, so let’s list my successes:

I’m a homeschooler. Well, this isn’t really to be interesting. It’s just to not go insane. I hated public school. I got out, and I’m very glad of it. I’m taking classes at PCC nowadays, and I love it.

I’m a trapeze artist. You’ll learn why soon enough. But I love every minute of it.

I ride a scooter. I’m not sure why this makes me interesting, but it seems to. And it’s become a major part of my personality, somehow. And people who are impressed by it keep stopping me on the street. I guess the world is sick of skateboards.

I write songs. This is just for fun. My earliest memory is writing songs in my car seat.

I stick by things. I had an unrequited crush on a guy for 2 years, through several other girlfriends. We’re dating now.

So, I’ve been mildly successful, to a certain degree. I most certainly have had an interesting life, for a sixteen year old sheltered middle class Portlander. Well, I haven’t always been living a normal life, in a house or anything, but by the time my story really begins, I was, so if your lucky I’ll give you a few one-room yurt flashbacks of my childhood.

Wait a minute… I just looked back on this page, and it sure looks like I’m bragging. So I better list all the ways in which I clearly am not that cool.

I’m terribly shy. I couldn’t talk to waiters or clerks when I was 10 years old.

I’m also socially awkward. Even when I’m trying, I can’t seem to draw a crowd in around me.

I have no idea what I want to do with my life.

I’m a lazy, hopeless procrastinator.

Good. That’s a more accurate representation of me. Now I can get on to the real story.

It all started with a death. I’m not sure who died, and to this day I still feel guilty that this unnamed person was the cause of all my good luck and fortune. But because of this sad circumstance, my parents’ friends Joe and Billy had to go out of town, and they couldn’t use their $400 dollar cirque du soleil tickets. So they kindly passed them on to our family. Which is why I ended up in the fourth row seats inside of a gigantic, yellow and blue striped tent one evening in late winter, on the day that began to shape me into who I am now.

The lights dimmed, the clowns retreated back onto stage, and a green light flew around overhead announcing the rules of the show. Then the acrobats came on… When the intermission came on, I was shaking for over 5 minutes before I realized I was cold. The second half only improved on the first. The next day, I went on line with my mother, Arina the Internet bloodhound, and found a tiny trapeze and acrobatics school called Do Jump!

Two weeks later, I joined a beginning trapeze class, and got addicted. I started taking several classes a week, and work trading there just to take more classes. After almost a year, I progressed to intermediate, where I am today, just about to start my third term of it. That’s the good news. The bad news is, I had to quit Aikido.

That was most likely the hardest decision I have ever made. I’d been taking classes in the Japanese martial art for several years now, and I wasn’t willing to admit that I’d been bored to death for the last 2 of them. The shiny veneer of learning to fight had worn off long ago, and the not so shiny, more resilient veneer of learning to think and move and meditate was gone too, no matter how hard I clung to it. I was skipping pretty regularly, and looking forward to Do Jump! All week. So, finally, I decided to quit. I had just attained my blue belt, and was finally getting somewhere, Aikido wise. But I had to leave, it wasn’t my thing. So I did. And I’m much happier. I’m getting the feeling that the shiny veneer of “I’m learning trapeze. Trapeze. My body is getting insanely strong and flexible. I can do crazy stunts. It’s exhilarating and tons of fun, and I can almost do the splits!” will never wear thin. At least, it hasn’t so far. I rarely get bored by even the hour of warm ups, stretches, and conditioning we do before we get on the trapezes.

And as I took Do Jump! Classes, I became much more comfortable with myself, and much more confident. For the first time, I was truly athletic. Suddenly, even walking was easier. And I think it gave me much more courage, and that slowly began to show in my interactions with the guy that I refused to admit to having a crush on, Andrew.

I first met Andrew in the middle of summer. I had been arranging a weekly outing to Oaks Park, a local amusement park. That day, I was going to meet up with Danny, a close friend who has had a crush on me for a while (though maybe he liked Ian back then.), and a newish friend of mine name Neely. That particular week, though, Neely called up and asked if she could bring her boyfriend. I had wanted to meet him for a while. I was fourteen at the time, and I was mystified at the idea that I had a friend with a boyfriend.

We got there, and I met up with Neely and Danny. “Hey McKenzie!” Neely called, and Danny and I looked over to see her walking up to us.

“So, are you going to ride the screaming eagle today?” I asked her, and she shook her head.

“You sure?” Danny asked. “Kenzie talked me into it, and it sure was fun…” He shook his head a little. “But, never again.” Danny’s tall, and a little gangly, as if he most definitely still needs to grow into his body. He had, at that time, shoulder length pale blond hair that seemed to me to be very manga like. Manga are Japanese comics. I was obsessed at the time.

“You’re not helping.” I told him, and he sighed.

“Just telling the truth!” He told me. “Oh, and I was meaning to ask you, do you think I should ask Ian to that Trans Siberian Orchestra concert?” Yeah, he was definitely crushing on one of my closest friends, Ianera, at that point. Ianera was the sort of person who would take a gorgeous, unusual name like that and turn it into a fairly common boy’s name. But Ian really did suit her much better. Despite her long, flowing brown hair, she seemed more likely to be fighting off demons than being a damsel in distress. Or, at the very least, confusing the demons long enough to escape. I can tell easily why Danny liked her so much. She’s awesome. I’ve spent most of my life on and off in love with her myself.

“Sure, Ian’s always up for a concert.” I said. I never really thought that the match would work, but I love playing matchmaker so much, plus Danny’s so sweet it’s hard not to try and help him out.

“Oh, where’s the boyfriend, Neely?” I asked in curiosity, remembering the guest she was supposed to bring.

“Late, as always. He’s meeting us in about a half an hour.” She said. Little did I know that this was pretty much standard procedure. Neely, too, had long brown hair, though she had a slimmer, more Elvin build. Ian could only be described as Amazonian, really. Often, however, the two would get mixed up from behind, because of the hair, though by taking a moment to look it was clear that Neely’s was a little lighter.

“Well, we have time to wait in line for one ride. Which shall it be?”

“Looping thunder?” I suggested, naming the larger of the park’s two roller coasters, and off we went. After we had waited through the lines and crowds and ridden the ride once, it was time to seek out Neely’s boyfriend. I scanned the vast crowd, wondering how we could meet someone here, but just as I wondered, Neely pointed, and there he was. He had short brown hair and dark eyes, and he looked very overdressed for the season. (Which was July.) I think my heart probably skipped a beat, but I was fourteen. It did that a lot. All I remember thinking of him was “Wow, Neely and I have identical taste in guys.” I then vowed to ignore him.

I didn’t see Andrew again for several months. The next time I saw him, Neely had talked me into going to a homeschool Christmas dance. I’m pagan, I don’t celebrate Christmas, but I went anyway. There was pretty much one reason for this. Beforehand, Neely, Jenna and I had gone to the mall in full pre-dance formalwear. The point was to get a lot of weird looks. I couldn’t resist. I love getting weird looks; it’s one of my favorite things. I’ll wander around crowded areas in costume, or Goth clothing, or something like that, and just smile at all the people that think I’m crazy.

So, playing on my weaknesses, Neely talked me into the dance. She told me I would love it. I didn’t believe her, but I went anyway. We showed up early, and started to help prepare the room. I was happy to help. That part was no trouble for me. I was a little unsure of myself, Neely being the only person I knew there, but I ignored my fears. At the very least, I’d have Neely to dance with, right?

It only took me a few moments to realize that I was wrong. I mean, I should have expected it, but of course I was stupid and didn’t think things through, because about halfway through the preparations, Andrew showed up. He was dressed in an old fashioned style, I remember, though the details are a little vague, since it was dark in the room. I was disappointed. I knew one person there, and she was there with a date. Perfect, just perfect.

I spent most of the time on the edge of the dance floor, trying to get over my nerves, dancing by myself or sometimes with Neely. But after a while of that, my bravery was exhausted, and I walked back to the sidelines and sat down by my backpack, calling my mom and telling her I wanted to leave early. I was bored, and shy, and I didn’t know anyone.

I sat back and sighed, then looked up. Andrew was standing next to me, and he dropped down to a crouch to be on a similar level. “You’re not dancing.” He said. I nodded.

“I danced. Or at least, tried to. But I’m too shy to ask anyone.”

“Don’t worry, McKenzie.” He said, and though I couldn’t really see him, I could hear the smile in his voice. “I don’t ask girls to dance either.”

I think that was the moment I began to fall for him, though it would be a little over a year before I told anyone at all.