CHRYSALIS

34.

July 21st, 2021

I'm not sure how I'm feeling today. I woke up hazy and haven't really been able to shake it. Might go for a walk at the park or something just to try and shake it. I like the statues there, the way the kids crawl on them always makes me smile. Something about cold hard stone, covered in bronze, being loved so innocently while it remains hard and cold really speaks to me these days. I'm having moments of warmth though, which my therapist says is a good sign. I can laugh again at certain things, I can let him hug me, I can offer warm smiles and mean them. It gives me hope. I don't really know what I'm supposed to be writing here, it's just a stream of conscious thought today I guess. I guess I'll get up now, go for that walk. He'll be excited about it. Oh right, I'm supposed to be reliving the past, huh? My bad, I almost forgot. Last time I wrote about the awkward day trip so I guess now we're at the first show of tour. Who knew things would spiral so far out of hand from there.

I mean I probably could have guessed.
Jo.

Feb. 12th | Bologna, Italy | Show #1

I woke up that morning buzzing. My whole body was buzzing in a mixture of excitement and anxiety, I could not physically standstill. I woke up at 7 am like a zombie on cocaine.

The first thing I did was text Frankie. We were nine hours ahead so it was only about 10 pm in L.A., I knew he'd be up.

I texted Britt too, although I had no idea what time it was there. I shot a text to Miranda too. I thought about texting Dad, but I had talked to him last night and he was probably asleep anyway. I'd send him pictures later.

Frankie called me almost immediately and I gave him every single detail of the previous day, he seemed to think it was promising but I explained to him that it didn't matter. That talk I had planned was off the table. The most we could ever hope to be was friends because I would inevitably fuck up anything else. He didn't like that much, but I couldn't be bothered to care. After a little more bickering and a lot of "I miss you's" we finally hung up the phone.

I got up, decided to stretch, don't ask me why because I do not know, and then took a 30-minute shower. I did a face mask, hair mask, full-body scrub down, body mud mask, the absolute works.

I was determined to feel my most confident for this day because I had to survive it. I couldn't let him down again. I would be the best makeup artist he'd ever worked with and I would be a good friend too.

A good friend. I could handle that.

I stepped out of the bathroom and lathered my body in lotion, avoiding my eyes in the mirror. I wrapped myself in my black silk robe and combed through my hair, letting it rest behind my shoulders.

I started picking through my suitcase, picking a casual outfit for the day, and setting some pieces aside for tonight. As I reached the bottom my fingers grazed an all too familiar fabric, one I hadn't felt in my hands in far too long. The first thing I packed.

I pulled out the champagne silk shirt and let it rest in my lap while I stroked the soft fabric. My lucky shirt. The shirt that got me here. The last real piece of Gramps that I have left.

I realized then that I hadn't talked to him in a while, my life has been full of such strange drama that I hadn't taken a minute to talk to the wind. I made a mental note to sit on the balcony and do that today.

I picked out a pair of Levi's and a white camisole to wear under my lucky shirt. I figured I should probably dry my bangs before they were too far gone to be saved, so I made my way back to the bathroom. I gave myself the world's laziest blowout, but it did the trick. The mask in the shower helped.