19yearsofdreaming

19YEARS

OFDREAM ING A SERIES OF UNACADEMIC, UNEMPATHETIC ESSAYS

By Jalyn Eaton

I dreamt of a life where sadness only came quickly and with reason.

TABLE OF ESSAYS

HOW TO DISSAPOINT YOUR FATHER 101…………………………………………………….4 PREHEAT OVEN 350……………………………………………………………………………………..5 POPSICLE……………………………………………………………………………………………………..6 IS IT ENOUGH TO BE INSTROSPECTIVE OR SHOULD I VOUCH FOR CHANGE?............................…………………………………….7 EASTER…………………………………………………………………………………………………………8 HOW I RESPOND WHEN I AM NOT ASKED ABOUT LONELINESS…………………..9 THIS IS HELL……………………………………………………………………………………………….10

HOW TO DISSAPOINT YOUR FATHER 101 Jalyn

When I had my heart broken for the first time, it was then that I realized that I do not know how to love from a man's point of view. I am not solid enough.

As a woman, I was trained to be water, as transparent as possible. I always managed to disguise it, to pour myself into a tank. From far away, I was still a woman. As I got older, the walls of the tank that I worked so hard on sculpting began to wither away. How to Disappoint Your Father 101: drop three pounds in your first year of college. Become small. Let your saltwater seep out the cracks. Unfortunately, when a woman grabs the lightbulb and moves it closer to herself, she will always be moving it further away from a man who loves her. A woman will never find it funny that that same man never found anything wrong with the situation when the tables were turned.

A woman will mourn her own death. A woman will be spoken to as a child her whole life until she is meant to feel blame. Blame will become her middle, first, and last name. A woman will die before she is born. She will wait 9 months until her hair grows past her shoulders, until it adds a foot to her height. She will take scissors to her skull until the extra foot is lying next to her toes. The men who never offered to twist her locks will curse her when she is done. The men will curse her gently, like they have no idea what they've done. Men will never have any idea of what they've done. Men will always know exactly what they have done. A woman will wish that she is invisible, not knowing that she already is, not knowing that she never will be.

A woman will stroke a man's ear just so that he can shut it when she finally builds up the nerve to speak. A woman will try to love from a man's point of view, but a woman will never stoop that low.

PREHEAT OVEN 350 Jalyn

I AM IMMERSED IN A POT OF BOILING WATER. HE REACHES IN WITH HIS BARE HANDS AND GRABS ME BY MY NECK. MY BABY LIES ME DOWN AND SLICES ME FROM MY TRACHEA TO MY NAVEL. HE RIPS OUT EVERYTHING IN

BETWEEN. I AM NOTHING BUT A CAPSULE FOR HIM TO STORE HIS LOVE. HE COMES TO ME EVERY SO OFTEN, ADDING A LETTER "O".

"O" AS IN WET DREAMS. "O" AS IN VULNERABILITY. "O" AS IN HOME. "O" AS IN MY PURITY THAT WE HAVE BOTH SEPERATELY DECIDED BELONGS TO HIM AND ONLY HIM. I AM EMPTIED AND I AM EMPTIED ONCE AGAIN.

POPSICLE Jalyn

IN ORDER TO GET OVER HIM, I HAD TO FEEL NOTHING. FEELING TOO MUCH OF ANYTHING WAS A GOOD THING. IN ORDER TO GET OVER HIM, I HAD TO MOVE ON. I HAD TO GET MY HOPES UP OVER SOMEONE WHO WASN’T HIM. I HAD TO GET LET DOWN FOR THE FIRST TIME ONE MORE TIME. I HAD TO REMEMBER HOW TO SOLIDIFY WHEN I HEAR TWO PEOPLE MAKING LOVE. I HAD TO REMEMBER HOW NOT TO MELT. I HAD TO TRANSITION INTO FALL. THE SUMMER MADE ME DRIP. MY SOUL DRIPPED FROM THE TIPS OF MY TOES AND FOR A WHILE I JUST STOOD IN A PUDDLE. I TURNED AROUND TO FACE MYSELF. TOOK MY FINGERNAILS AND CREATED AN INCISION IN MY CHEST. PLUCKED OUT MY HEART. QUESTIONED HOW IT COULD BE SO HOLLOW AND HEAVY AT THE SAME TIME. I AVOIDED DIRECT EYE CONTACT WITH MYSELF FOR AN ENTIRE WEEK. DRESSED IN MORE LAYERS; THOUGHT I LOOKED BETTER IN THE SUN. WHEN IT IS COLD, I AM COLD. I AM COLD. WHAT SHE HAS THAT I DO NOT HAVE I WILL MAKE UP FOR WITH MY EMPTINESS ALONE. I WILL TRY TO LOOK YOU IN YOUR EYES WITHOUT MAKING YOU FEEL GUILTY FOR SOMETHING YOU DID NOT CREATE. I WILL TRY TO DANCE WITHOUT CRYING. BUT I WILL CRY. I WILL FEEL NOTHING BUT HOLLOW AND HEAVY. I WILL BE A PIANO WITH NO KEYS. I WILL MELT IN THE SUN.

IS IT ENOUGH TO BE INSTROSPECTIVE OR SHOULD I VOUCH FOR CHANGE? Jalyn

You feel it more when you are alone. I swear to God, I feel it all the time. I do not know why I use His name in vain. The bitterness has turned me evil. I think it’s turned me cold. It has urged me to add a few more bricks to the wall. I find myself asking questions like: Why can’t I feel the sun from every angle? Why does nothing stay? Why am I not allowed to drown in the same pool as everyone else? Like Why is it that I dream the same dream every night? Like I knew that loneliness would hurt, but I did not know that I would feel it in my ribs.4 years ago I remember feeling as though I was not prepared for what solitude would really feel like, but now I’ve learned that no matter how many bags I pack, one of them will always end up getting lost in transit. I will never be fully prepared. I’ve realized that if I keep moving, I will never have time to think about how much my body aches when I am still. Maybe that’s why I am always running in my dreams. Maybe that’s why I am always so short of breath.

Lately, I have been so heavy.

It is so easy to be reminded of how often you are not on anyone’s mind. I have this dream where I am dancing in front of a mirror. It’s my childhood bedroom. And as I dance in the mirror, I begin to take off my clothes. But just as I am undressing, I get interrupted. There’s a knock.

Or the doorknob jiggles. I am always interrupted. And I have never once finished this dance. I carry so much shame on my shoulders, my fingertips brush against the heels of my feet. My spine cannot support the weight of years and years of pointless dancing. At some point, there must be a curtain call. I cannot end the dream like this.

Confession: I am afraid that I did not start off with a steady enough pace, and now I am falling further and further behind. I regret not being as in shape as I used to be.

EASTER Jalyn

THE LONELINESS HAS RESSURECTED. GODISLAUGHINGATME. IS HE ALWAYS LAUGHING? TODAY WAS SO COLD. APRIL PLEASE DO NOT BRING ANYMORE RAIN, I HAVE HAD ENOUGH. I GUESS I COULD STAND IT, BUT I WOULD MUCH RATHER SIT. MY LEGS ARE SO TIRED. WHY DO I RELIVE THE SAME NIGHT OVER AND OVER AGAIN? IS THIS WHAT THEY FELT WHEN THEY FOUND EMPTINESS IN HIS TOMB? WHERE HAD HE GONE? WHY HADN’T HE WARNED ANYONE? WHY MUST HE THINK HE’S A GOD?* *WHY MUST EVERY MAN THINK HE’S A GOD?

HOW I RESPOND WHEN I AM NOT ASKED ABOUT LONELINESS Jalyn

it feels warm. you try to take off the sadness like a sweater until you realize it’s your skin. you want to shred it apart. you find yourself sitting in church staircases, in stone gardens, in sand mazes. you do nothing to stop it. you grab your board and skate. the wind makes up for the lack of touch "when is the last time you've been touched?" "it was the boy with the dvd player" the one that he couldn't get to turn on. (remember how he was so much drunker than you. he was disgusting wasn't he). you do not have to work to forget him. but he is all you have so you hold on to his memory like your mother the night before your high school graduation. you cannot lose your grip on him until someone else places their fingers in the indents he made on your skin. you do not mistake this for love. you mistake this for life. you should rest It's not the sleeping part that's hard. It's the hum right before the hum of the heater of the fan of the girl upstairs making love the hum of 3am lullabies like "when's the last time u weren't alone?" you cannot remember the last time. you hear music. everybody is awake. why do you feel so alone? you are on fire. you kiss your own shoulders. you lie down and position your body so that: your hands are somebody else's hands. your fingers are somebody else's fingers. you are somebody else who are you? you, mistake lust for love. you, mistake infatuation for love. you, mistook that boy for love that boy does not know how to love. that boy will not allow himself to love. are you depriving yourself of touch? why won't anyone touch you? what have i done?

THIS IS HELL

By Jalyn Eaton

repulsive hands holding caressing alone alone alone across the room eyes closed eyes open pain pain pain fingers intertwined heart heavy look away look back look away hatred heavy hate breathe swallow break head on shoulder get comfortable switch positions look away look away imagination is worse abort abort become undrunk leave without saying goodbye fuck you fuck you quiet quiet cry while roommate sleeps wake up mourn cant sleep cant sleep unconscious continue continue together together apart don’t look don’t call don’t’ breathe breathe take deep breath hold don’t mention close eyes don’t watch not for you hide hide hide turn red from anger embarrassment is red nauseous assume its over assume the worst is yet to come intuition wake up with nothing else on your mind verify truth it is not a dream go crazy no missed calls dig nails into skin alone alone everything is embarrassing alone alone watch in silence take notes don’t take notes try to sleep shake uncontrollably 6am do not tell conceal conceal conceal allow it fuck it fuck you fuck you fuck you never amount tear out heart directly from chest try to move on laugh eye twitch laugh laugh laugh hate the wrong person strengthen walls built around self build build destroy heavy heavy heavy punch hole through brick wall analyze flaws have worst nightmare come true have worst nightmare come true twice watch him hold it hurts it stings hear birds mock birds vomit disappear don't show up to own funeral wake up before alarm distance distance distance do not regret rewrite maiden name until fingers bleed fingers bleed fingers fingers fingers break destroy get memo misread memo

I (will) crumble in the light.

Jalyn