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someone once told me that if i ever felt like falling, i should fall forward. someone would be bound to catch me.

i felt like if i could fall there, someone would pick me up without me even touching the ground. it was a place for me to rest my mind, to run barefoot with toes sinking into the ground, to smile without feeling insecure about my teeth or tiny lumps across my forehead. i rarely took showers. it was a place of love, and i never wanted to leave.

it was my last year, my very last campfire to watch the divine flames of fire lick the night sky. there was something special about this fire... it wasn't just a bundle logs burning quietly. these logs, they were blessed. blessed by something beyond me. i sat around the fire and held hands with my good friend, micah. i cried.

it was a place for me to cry oceans, to scream my anger and anxiety out of my tiny body. it was a place for me to wake early, take a hot shower, and dry my hair by swinging on swings in the children's playground. i'd tilt my head back, jaw ajar, and try to swallow imaginary faeries dancing around me... faeries that would follow me throughout the day and catch me if i fall.

catch me if i fall.