Hide and seek

Sitting in the kitchen on a brisk Wyoming spring day, sipping hot tea, listening to the wind outside howl outside, I find myself in a suspended state of peace. A pile of library books and Times magazine are spread over the table and Irish folk music flows from the small computer speakers. It's a cozy scene. It's just not the one I imagined myself a part of. At 18 years old, I assumed my life would be an exciting whirlwind of socializing and experiments. I think the adventurous, wild girl I always identified myself is slowly disappearing. And replacing her is the shy, nerdy girl that always stayed dutifully silent in social settings and drunken nights. A slight Jackell & Hyde effect. I've been taking it easy for days, indulging in the things I love but hide. Jazz music, hot tea, poetry, indie films, politics. All the things people my age have difficulty identifying with. I find myself wondering who I am. The girl, drunk and loud in a group of people, dancing like nobody is watching. Always down for an impulsive ride out to nowhere and good for adrenaline rushes. She's who I know. She spends her days smiling wide and on the run. Always flitting from one thing to another, only to stop at night, and even when she's alone, drinks until she passes out. It's always a drink and a relationship that promises to ignite fast and burn badly. Always a good story and a bad night. Then there's the girl that comes out when I'm alone. She loves the rain and hiking, reading good books and writing. She's the one barely managing to keep a blog alive. She's sweet, a little blunt and sometimes cold, but always means well. She's always there when the hangovers are gone and the parties over. Picking up the pieces of a fractured life and broken heart.. Sometimes I wonder if she's me when I'm happy, not trying to entertain. Just doing what makes me happy. She emerges when the boys are gone and the pressure to be perfect for someone else is gone. In a strange, quiet way, she's not as vulnerable as the girl desperate and stumbling, pouring another smile.