from there to here.

how do you let go of something you thought was your future?
how do you let go of something you thought was your future because of someone you thought was your future?
how do you let go of someone you thought was your future after you let go of something that was your future?

you lose a lot.
you lose the future.
you lose it.
you lose him.
you lose everything.
you lose yourself.

because somewhere in the midst of all of it, you defined yourself.
you defined yourself by the work and sleepless nights you put in trying to please everyone, even at the expense of your own pleasure.
you defined yourself by the associations and the approval you gained from the success.
but were you happy?
were you really happy?
you don't know.
because what came out of it?
rejection at the last minute?
sitting at a rock table fifteen minutes before class and telling yourself the tears you're holding back can be released in eight hours.
they can be released when you're finally at home.
in your room.
alone.
after you try to prove yourself in a class far above your head.
after you have made sure the entire community feels welcome.
but how good at that can you be when the rug wasn't just ripped out from under you...
...it was ripped out from under you
then doused with kerosene
then burned.
and the ashes?
they were tossed half into the deepest sea
and half into the Himalayas
so you can never find them again.
and that community?
well that was over.
four years of everything
only to turn to minimum all at once.

and when you had nothing left
you defined yourself by him.
first by friendship
then by making yourself feel better because at least you could have the life everyone else wanted.
that was your new definition.
blend in.
after a life of standing out and doing everything you could to achieve greatness.
your new definition was mediocrity.
live in the suburb of a city.
marry the boy next door.
marry the boy of whom your whole family already approved.
have the 2.5 kids.
have the white picket fence
in a subdivision where every house came from the same batch of cookies.
get a mediocre job that has nothing to do with your passion
much less your degree.
and be ohkay.
honestly, you would be ohkay.
because you loved him.
and that was a passion in and of itself.
you loved him.
with everything in you.

but he didn't love you.
or he was too coward to reevaluate you.
because,
after all,
you were just the girl next door to him too.

and you just want to wake up.
you want to wake up back in that room.
the one with the writing on the wall.
the one with the tiny window above your desk.
the one with the refrigerator in the closet.
the one with the bookshelf by the door
and the travel memorabilia from last summer.
and the summer before that.
the one you spent barely any time in because you never slept
because you were doing the work of at least three people all at once.
because you were doing what made your eyes glimmer when you spoke.
the one with the light buzzing of the fan
the one filled with the faint laughter of the other six or seven people in the house.

because if you wake up in that room...
...then it was all just a nightmare.
a horrible nightmare.
but at least it was in your head
and not in your reality.
because if you wake up in that room...
...there's still time to change it.
to make sure the redefining never happens.
maybe you can find the way to absolute zero without creating the black hole.
freeze time.
stay in that room forever.
stay in that moment forever.
because if you wake up in that room...
...you don't have to figure out how to let something go you thought was your future.
...you don't have to figure out how to let go of something you thought was your future because of someone you thought was your future?
...you don't have to figure out how to let go of someone you thought was your future after you let go of something that was your future?
because if you wake up in that room
you don't have to figure out where to go from here.