"Sometimes…" it's a drawl. Long and sugary. "I think I'm made of sunshine."
And the wind just eases by. It brushes over grass, which bends and sways upward again. I can't stop looking at my veins.
"I mean, what if, right? Like let's just say there is sunshine in my veins. Wouldn't that make more sense? I think it's easy. Liquid, ya know? I could see it. Maybe that's why winter is hard. Veins freeze up. You think sunshine freezes?"
I don't expect much of an answer. Maybe just acknowledgment. I stop looking at my arm and look over.
"Well, what do you think?"
And you. Well, you wag your tail.
"I've lost it," I say. "I think I'm made of sunshine and I'm talking to my dog. I guess it could be worse though, I could be talking to myself."
It's nice that you can't say anything. You might tell me I'm crazy.
"But I've got this thought. I don't think sunshine can freeze, but maybe in the winter it gets clouded. You think blood moves slower in the winter? I take that back. Blood is a terrible thing. People think of murder and slaughter. Why do people have to be so ugly on the inside?
I mean, seriously? Who decided we should look like a cage on the inside? That's pathetic. We put all the important stuff in a cage and never let it out. Our own body locks us up. So is it really so weird when we see people do that? Like, why do I always get so bummed out when people won't take risks? We're genetically constructed to live in a cage."
You yawn and roll over onto your back, basking in sunshine. It sounds like a good idea.
"That doesn't really explain people like me though. I mean, I guess it might. I spend my entire life trying to slip out of those bars, and really I just build another one around myself. But seriously, what am I going to do? Crack open my ribcage and see if I'm made of sunlight?"
I roll onto my back too and reach out to the sun, only to find it slipping through my fingers. I look at my veins and squint my eyes to the sun. I think of breaking a vein open to see if white light bleeds out.
"People would be worried if they heard that," I scrunch my nose. "They'd think I was suicidal, not curious."
There are hummingbirds flying over our heads and you don't ask what I mean. I think you've got only two things on your mind; sunshine and the sound of my voice. And lunch. So maybe three. Two point five.
"Most people don't think I'm very interesting. Most people look at me and make up their minds. I'm not really good with second and third impressions. I start off pretty well, but I'm pretty socially awkward otherwise. I don't get witty and clever until the sixth or seventh meeting, but most people don't ever get that far. I've either got the people who don't give a shit about me, or fall in love with me. It's rarely in between.
I don't mind that so much, though. I hate mediocrity. But it's kind of a pain. Why can't I be okay with a picket fence and a dog? – No offense."
None taken, apparently.
"I can't help but get a little sad though. For other people, and for me too. How many people have I not really met simply because they thought they figured me out? But I – I kind of do it to myself. Don't I?"
It's sunny outside and I can't think of a better day. The grass is soft, the air is warm and it just dawned on me that birds are singing and that you have eyelashes. It's something I never really thought about – dogs having eyelashes. Sometimes I wonder what you're thinking. If you are just thinking about sunshine and lunch. Maybe you want to tell me I'm crazy, or maybe you want to tell me you agree with me.
Whatever it is, I'm glad you're here.
Tomorrow, I have to go to work and I won't think about this. I'll fall into line with a voice in the back of my head that is screaming to get out. I'll think of the heart that's in a cage, cracked into pieces until I find the glue to put it back together. But I don't mind, not too much. Sometimes I think I like myself better when I realize that I'll always get back up.
"The killer is that I know it will get better, but sometimes it gets old being the cockroach. And maybe that's the biggest part. I lose, but I don't ever quit. I never go down without a fight, and if I do get beaten down… I'm never defeated. I always, always get back up."
Something is running through my veins. It might be sunshine, or glitter, naivety or courage. But there is something, and whatever it maybe, it's going to take me somewhere.
You've got eyelashes and I don't know what you're thinking, but you make me feel like even if I fail in flames, I can come home to you and you won't care. It's warm outside and the sun is out after months of endless winter. Humans were built like a cage, to protect the softer insides of hopes and dreams.
There's a glimmer on my arm, and I reach for the sky again.
"Let's say, just for arguments sake, I'm made of sunshine."