little sarah Big World

Tag: panic

History

I remember:

-Giant fake sequoias and a rising sense of panic, an urgent text–“I feel supremely un-okay”–and then reassurance, caring

-A long drive that turned out to be so much more perfect than a short one

-Your hand on my leg

-Almost crashing, over and over, but not really feeling scared

-Drinking bourbon straight from the bottle

-Holding each other, frantically, because this was finally real. It was touchable.

-Crying in the bathroom; missing my friends

-3 hours of sleep

-Watching you drink a mug of coffee, black

-A drive that I never wanted to end

-Waiting for you outside the bathroom

-Your hand on my back

-A long lazy lunch

-“Where does he think I’m from?”

-Stealing kisses in the car

-2 hours behind a budget truck (high centered), and absolutely not caring. Being content, just to be there. Just to be near you.

-Skipping a nap and dinner in favor of tall glasses of whiskey

-Being unable to get up off the couch

-A ridiculous party, never-ending laughs, running home, pretending to be asleep

-Piecing together the night before

-Popcorn for breakfast

-Coming home sweaty after a run to your smiling face

-Changing with the door wide open

-Screaming Turkish music, and meeting new people

-Feeling like I ought to live up to expectations; feeling unable to do so

-Being so, so cold all of the time

-Long walks

-A secret spot

-Saving the end of the story for later

-The Giggles

-A night in with mota, wine, and The Tip of the Iceberg

-Waking up earlier

-Talking for hours in bed, and an internal sigh of relief

-Teaching each other

-A complete meal (bet you anything those pancakes weren’t vegan)

-A walk on the beach

-Watching you watch me watch you smoke

-Hanging out, looking at pictures, smoking, talking

-Meeting my twin!

-SLAYING IT at karaoke

-After being so nervous and anxious that I was about to ask to leave

-Because karaoke is infinitely scarier to me than any other performance

-Because you were drunk and instantly so comfortable with me, while I felt uneasy. And guilty.

-Out of my element

-A failed dance party of two

-Your eyes

-A quick drive to the airport, and goodbye for now

*       *       *

I don’t remember perfection, but I remember everything. The amazing parts, the scary parts, the anxious parts, the hunger, the hangovers. It wasn’t perfect, and I am not perfect. I am real, and so are you, and so is this.

As real as the pain of its absence.

As real as the relief of its return.

Creature Comforts

~OR~

A Room of One’s Own…in Peru

Early on in the trip I decided that I would like to finish things in comfort, or at least relative comfort–in a private hostel room. I just figured that after all the buses and taxis and jam-packed dorms and ever-changing couch surfs–not to mention constant “companionship” from B & J–I’d want some privacy and relaxation for my brief stay (1 night only) in Lima. So I booked it, weeks out.

Then I second-guessed myself, as I’ve been known to do. “I’ve spent so much money already, and why wouldn’t I want to couch surf and meet someone who could show me the best of Lima since I’m only there one night, and I am so anti-social and lame, blerg!”

So I found a couch surf (with a girl, which is rare), cancelled my reservation, and felt I’d done the right thing.

Guess what, though? My original, non-exhausted, non-panicking self was right. The couch surf turned out to be a bust. The girl wasn’t even home, and I was supposed to stay in the care of her little sister, but then lil sis had to go to class with her house keys, which meant I needed to stay in their filthy, piss-smelling apartment in a shady part of town until the older sister (my couch surfing contact) came home. Six hours.

PANIC.

You don’t need to hear about The Panic, though. Let me just say that after several frantic phone calls, emails, and a quick escape via taxi, I was able to reclaim my previously-reserved room 1900 Backpacker’s Hostel, where I spread out and relaxed to my heart’s content.

(Big sigh of relief)

Seriously, though, I was so giddy at having my own space for the first time in nearly a month that I lied down on the floor and made something like snow angels. Then I went for a long run while listening to Adele. Then I danced around my room in joy. Then I had food from a vegan restaurant (!!!) that was just down the street.

Then I watched bootlegged American movies on the hostel’s big TV, drank beer, ate snacks, and went to bed. Happy as a clam

Moral of this story? Trust yourself. Trust that you know yourself, and do as you please.