Someday by Sarah Jacobsen

Someday by Sarah Jacobsen

It’s 2am. The room is dark except for the light, muted as it is, filtering from across the street through the raindrops, through my windows, and onto the wall opposite my bed.

The rain pelts the panes of my window, whispering promises for the morning- promises of a new world full of new smells.

In the distance, a light flashes, and I count the seconds- one, two, three miles away, then the wave of sound hits, rattling my windows. I feel it in my bones, like a soothing balm and an unscratchable itch all at once. On nights like this, I’m torn between two instincts, two selves.

One, to snuggle closer under the covers, embracing the rain’s promise of a new world and a new day. Will I be the same in this new world? Will I go forward, settled into my routine, barely noticing that the grass seems a little greener, that the world seems a little clearer? Or will I be made new as well?

Two, to slip out into the night, dancing barefoot and brazen in the puddles with a partner quick as lightning. Would the world stand still for a moment in the middle of the night for a wild-eyed, restless young woman to court the wind and the rain? At this hour, who would see me? Who would know? Would I be able to hide the transformation in the morning, pretending it wasn’t me who giggled breathlessly with the storm itself?

It’s tempting. Someday, I whisper to myself, as the Pink! Pink! Pink! of the water droplets lulls me closer and closer to unconsciousness. There will come a day when I am fully my own. In that day, I will not doubt myself. I will know where I belong. But the truth is that my soul has already decided where it belongs- it just cannot convince me not to fear the deadly brilliance of the lightning.

In my dreams, I dance to the rhythm of the thunder, and I know no fear.