heart of gold

trying to glow while you're getting by

Giovanni Gasparro

I’ve been singing so much and so loud that something stretched too far in my jaw. It’s fine, really, but I know I did something a little too much. I’m doing some things a little too much, like skipping meals without meaning to and putting other peoples’ needs before my own and staying up late to get in one more chapter of my book. I’m finding joy in scribbling on the pages of an old favorite, drawing connections like I’m still in school, as my English teacher was breathing down my neck asking me about fatal flaws and tragic heroes.

I always thought my fatal flaw was something like loyalty. No matter what anyone says, no matter what it might look like on the outside, I go down with the ship. Every. Single Time. I will protect you and follow you to the ends of the earth if I think you deserve it, if I think you might love me. But the fatality of being loyal to someone who takes you for granted can be heart-breaking. My Achille’s heel was always people who never really cared about me as much I cared about them, and yet I kept hoping that one day they’d realize exactly what I was. I always hoped they finally notice the heart that burns in my chest, that I could glow brighter and brighter until I would blind them with my love and they’d have no choice but to love me back. But that isn’t how it works. Or rather, I can glow brighter than the sun and some people still won’t look at me.

Sometimes it feels like nobody is very loyal to me, or at least to the idea of me. I spend a lot of time these days worrying that I’m not doing enough. I fear that since I’m struggling to reach out, that since I don’t know if I want to text right now or listen to that voice message or ask directly How are you today? then maybe all my friends will think I hate them or they’ll stop reaching out or they’ll forget about me. But all my friends are so busy, I whisper. I see them in my mind’s eye, staying out late or putting in the work or at the very least, doing something so important as relaxing on the couch at the end of a long day. There’s no room for me. There doesn’t need to be, I remind myself. I try to convince myself. I try to satisfy myself.

But the truth is, frequently now I am reminded how alone I am.

And often that aloneness translates to loneliness if you aren’t careful.

I’ve been leaning into the past more than usual. Revisiting older versions of myself, trying to see if someone I used to be was better than who I am now. I’m not sure there’s a better version of me out there, rather I think each iteration of myself needed to exist for different reasons. I needed to cut my hair that short. I needed to spend a year making coffee. I needed to spend a few summers going to New York. And I don’t know that I’d go back if I could. Who I am now is stronger and braver and bolder and I’m proud of her for all she is. But I do miss where we used to be. I miss getting to live up the street from my best friend and I miss getting annoyed at my little brother when he’d change the channel and I miss when I used to fly all over the country to see friends.

Mostly, I miss when I had a lot of friends. Or when my friends weren’t cracking under the pressure. When my friends had time to text me back or to actually schedule a hang out or when my friends lived close enough to see me on a regular basis. I know that adult friendships make sacrifices, that you have to accept that one or two days spent together a year is more than a gift, it’s a miracle. But I hate to think that that’s our standard. That it’s acceptable to let people go. That people are encouraged to disappear.

Do you really not have time for me anymore? Or am I just not trying hard enough to reach you? Whose fault is it that I feel disconnected?

Or is this the new normal? Are we perfectly fine and I just miss when I was codependent with half a dozen people?

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There are some people I cannot get back and some places I can never return to, but they’re still out there. They are wishing me luck and love even though we haven’t seen each other in a long time, but they thought of me the other day when they heard a song that reminded them of that summer. And my heart is glowing.