sprouting (v).

Sometimes my apartment is roasting hot and sometimes my apartment is frigid and icy. My window, though large, looks out onto the brick siding of my neighbour's house- more specifically, you'll see the favourite perch of the neighbourhood pigeons, who gossip about their daily adventures right around the time I sit down for an afternoon read. The floor is creakiest in the only notably free space of the apartment, the only space big enough to host a yoga mat for a [very occasional] sit-up routine. The hallways are musty and smell like forgotten work boots. The baseboards are crooked and were hastily caulked. Rent is never impossible to come up with but it can be a tricky balancing act to make all things come together, especially when time escapes me and two weeks pass before I even look at a calendar and realize it's nearing the end of the month. We huddle for beer and wine in dim bars with crooked pictures on the wall and wobbly tables. We talk about our shitty jobs and our glorious plans, we talk about boys, and what boys think of girls and what they look for in girls, we talk about disastrous dates and glorious kisses, we talk about shaving our legs and what weird haphazard meals we've managed to throw together from our half-size fridges (yogurt and crackers, tortilla chips with chopped up tomatoes, no salsa, rice with whatever else is in the fridge, spaghetti- just the noodles, and ice cream for breakfast). We swear we're going to be healthy, we proclaim vegetarianism, we pledge our souls to only vodka sodas and no carbs.

I am making peace with the softer curves of my body (though I wish when I was 17 I would've walked around in a bikini every day while I had the opportunity). I am making peace with the acne (though it's a lot more scarce in the last few years). I am making peace with God, stepping into a new vision and comprehension that He (It?) is so much bigger and further and wider than any kind of box I've tried to build in my younger years.  I am making peace with the idea that I have time to try a lot of different things and also that time is of the essence, now is always the time to discover more and try harder and chase faster the things that ignite my heart.

These are the tender years, these are the growing pains, and it is just as glorious as it is dull, it is just as messy as it is a brilliant, fantastic masterpiece.

(photo from Visual Supply).

Posted on November 28, 2012 and filed under writing-.