Sometimes when I am asleep, and the wind is coming in through the window of my childhood bedroom, I can almost feel you here. For a sleepover, the way we used to do all the time. It was just our clothes then, I didn’t know what was mine or yours. It was our day then, we never left each other’s sides. It was our life then, a pact that if we made it to 40 and were still single, we’d run away together and live on the beach in Mexico. I always wake up in a sweat from those dreams now. Now I live in your phone as an unknown cell number, I live in your photos as a girl you used to know. I live in that stain I left on the carpet of your truck when my bubblegum ice cream melted. Now I’m the most hated girl. For twenty-five years in a row. If you’ve never been the last choice friend, undiagnosed depression at a very young age, artsy but filled with melancholy girl, then you’ve never been the most hated girl. But I’ve worn her skin all my life. At first it was the separate group chat with 9 memb...
Almost got the job, almost had feelings, almost lived in a city, almost graduated, almost there. It’s just the worst thing in the world.
That constant anticipation leading up to it, and the often underwhelming feeling that comes after.
Nothing hurts more than an almost.
Maybe it’s because I’m an all or nothing type of person. Black or white. I’ve never met in the middle ground. And I always wonder why it didn’t work out.
Some of the best advice I ever heard was:
If it’s not a hell yes, it’s a hell no.
Apply that to any scenario in your life and you have your answer. If they don’t want you like a hell yes, then it’s a hell no. If it’s not a hell yes to staying in your job, then it’s a hell no. You get it? There is no maybe, no almost there, no middle.
This is the way I plot decisions in my life. If someone isn’t giving me hell yes, they’re giving me hell no. & vice versa.
I wish everyone could skip the almost. You either want it or you don’t. You keep it or you lose it. You succeed or you fail. I wish there was no middle ground, where you sit and wait and wonder what it would be like on either side.
And what’s worse than an almost? The gut feeling of the outcome.
When you just know it’s almost there.
Like you know that “talk after work.” And it’s almost over.
You know when the class starts to rustle their coats, it’s almost over.
When you apply to graduate, it’s almost over.
When they’re distant for days, it’s almost over.
When I’m sad like this, I almost call.
Those almost urges too. The wanting to but the not wanting to. The typing and deleting, waiting for the phone to ring, eyes on the door, almost moments.
Taylor swift said it best hunny:
And I just wanna tell you
It takes everything in me not to call you
And I wish I could run to you
And I hope you know that every time I don't
I almost do
Almost usually leads to an ending of some kind. And I wish nothing good had to end.
But: what if we stop looking at things like a moment to be lived in the future. What if right now is just the future?
What if we start to believe that it’s selfish to worry about something further in time- in a place we aren’t ever guaranteed to go? What if we stop thinking about almost and start thinking about right now.
Almost in love? Happy in like.
Almost got the job? Happy with free time.
Almost time to leave? Happy with five more minutes.
Almost called? Better in silence.
It’s just that almost is a scary, stupid, nonexistent place, and I don’t think we ever have to exist there if we don’t want to. We could just exist now, until now becomes the future, and we basically close our eyes for the almost. And we could just be happy while it lasts.
Every once is a while, an almost comes around, and it’s feels good to have hope about the outcome. Almost time to see them. Almost done for the week. Almost time to go. I dunno. Sometimes I just have to look at things backwards until they don’t feel so sucky anymore.
And maybe sometimes, later in life, we can look back at the almost’s we had and say thank god it didn’t go the way we thought it was going to. And maybe there’s power in wanting something and not getting it too.
And if you see me scream-singing to Taylor Swift in my car, mind your business.
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