Meathead Monologue

grow out and not up

one day, sometime soon, i want to take a long walk through the forest
of my dreams, with you right beside me.
we can look up and through the tree tops as the sky peeks out from behind the green leaves.
and there will be woodland animals around us, wishing to approach but they are ultimately fearful.
we can talk like we used to and we can even hold hands if you please,
and i will show the forest that i, too, can feel such compassion from growth.
the trees will watch us from their high perches and look down upon us, not with anger
but with a miserable envy
because they are rooted down only to grow upwards and not outwards,
just like i would be doing with you beside me.
i would not be able to walk like that if it was not for you, walking with a certain bounce that puts a smile on my face, and you were always
telling me to grow out and not up; to grow out of my fear and out of my discomfort,
out of that sickly scared girl i used to be;
not to grow up,
not to grow up and forget the little things i do and feel
not to grow up and miss the finger nail polish i pick at when i am bored,
not to grow up and miss the stuffed sloth that sits on my bed with me,
not to grow up and miss movie nights with the whole family,
not to grow up and miss every second of my wonderful, wonderful childhood.
not to grow up at all
but always make friends with everyone and hold the hand of every
person i ever meet.
not to grow up ever and forget how to be alive.
not to grow up, but to grow out.
you and i will walk through the path in the forest and we will pass tall trees and bubbly flowers that will say hello to us as we cross paths and in time
the creatures of the forest will come to know us and they will walk behind us in a parade of wondrous growth.
the roots of the trees with grow towards the path in hopes of growing out with me,
growing out of the comfort zone known as the soil beneath the very wood.
you and i will hold hands and prance and skip with white and yellow flowers tangled in our hair and weeds wrapped lovingly around our bodies and bits of sunshine on our warm honeyed skin.
and you will ask me if i am happy
and i will reply with yes
because i will be growing out and not up.

r.k.