Yours Truly [h.s.]

7

I can't put into words how freeing college felt. How much room I had to spread my wings; stretch and feel things out. As if the moment I stepped foot on Florida soil, I was an entirely new woman. Like something inside of me blossomed in the southern sunshine. Like I really did migrate after all – flew down for the colder months and found a new home. Made a place for myself; built my own nest. Out of sturdier material than anything I had in Maine.

October came and went, with Harry popping in for a visit, and everything felt right. Natural. It was hard being away from him, but the freedom I felt was unparalleled. Enough to make up for any ounce of sadness.

Friends came easy, practically landing in my lap like fallen leaves. Drifting towards the earth painted red and orange and gold, breaths of fresh, crisp autumn air. Classes were interesting and exciting and I was hooked onto every last word that left my professors' mouths. Everything just felt...right. I felt seen, and heard, and valued. So vastly different than I ever felt in Maine.

My friends and I would spend weekdays in the library, studying and throwing Chex Mix at one another and laughing until we were shushed by other students. We'd sneak into house parties every weekend, the thrill of getting caught fueling the fire pouring from the soles of our shoes. And, after too much alcohol and too many hours of watching the girls make out with random guys, we stumbled back home, waking up Sunday morning with mysterious scraped knees and pounding headaches and streaked mascara across the backs of our hands. And it was perfect. Everything I ever wanted. Freedom and stupidity and friendship and good memories.

Harry knew about the parties - he wasn't exactly the happiest, but he never tried to stop me. Just made me promise to be safe and to text him when I made it back in at night. There was never any guilt, I just knew he'd rather me be tucked in the nest, safe and sound.

"Don't go too crazy, chickadee. Be safe. Let me know when you're back home, okay? Forever and always."

I missed you every single day in Florida. I woke up every single morning wishing I would feel your warm chest against my cheek. Wishing I would hear the gentle patterns of your breaths sinking into my dorm room. Wishing you could bloom in the Florida sun.

But all flowers have different needs.

It was stupid, really, the things that made me feel...me. The insignificant things - like the pieces of color I started to throw back into my wardrobe. The way I stopped covering my mouth when I laughed. The way I started making plans with friends.

I was unleashing the Dove that never had the chance to spread her wings.

For so long I had adapted into something else - a different bird, maybe. A Dove pretending to be a hummingbird, or a sparrow. A Dove trying so desperately to be anything other than a Dove. But, down at school, everyone loved watching the Doves. Treasured creature. Good omen. I wasn't ready to take flight, but I was finally finding my identity as a Dove.

We called and talked on the phone twice a week, consistent, until the beginning of November. After midterms, things got too busy and I couldn't figure out how to manage the time. It felt like juggling swords - the danger apparent and blatant but there's nothing to do except catch the metal and pray that it doesn't slice into skin.

"Hi chickie, how are you doing?" Harry's voice felt like melted butter, sizzling warm in the frying pan.

I flopped onto my back, setting my phone on speaker and resting it on my chest, "I'm good, how are you?"

"Better now that I hear your voice."

I smiled at his words, "I'm sorry it's been a while."

A week. It had been a full week since we genuinely sat down and talked.