16.2.18 Night-time snowdrops, deep breaths in the garden
Infatuation scares me. I have been programmed to distrust it. Over and over: don't get carried away.
I live under a deep pressure to be sensible. I'm a single mother. I don't have much money and I rarely have a secure job. My options each day, even down to how I move and direct my body, are limited to a frightening degree.
When vulnerability and responsibility collide together like that, the world makes it very clear which path you must take. You don't have a lot of choice in any case. You should be practical and prudent. You should face your reality and fight for your survival. Focus on what you have to do and let go of the rest. Focus on being better. Don't get distracted. Be careful of your daydreams. Be careful of your loves and the voices that whisper to you from the bright, sing-song sidelines. Be careful they don't try to pull you away into places of idleness and fancy. Don't try to be a bird when you need to be a fish pushing your way up the river. Eyes straight ahead, girl. Don't you stop. Keep your mind set on ambition, not on play. That's the only way out.
The rebellion of it then, to buy a new camera I didn't need. Oh the gleeful, stubborn joy of it. I did that. I did. It was the smallest thing but it has made my eyes gleam.
I did it because taking pictures makes me beautifully, simply happy. I did it because I'm infatuated with light and telling stories and I want to run away with those feelings and their promise, like an unsuitable fling. I did it because it wasn't the least bit sensible and that scared me half to death and because that's who I am, really. That's who I can't help but be: a dumb, wide-eyed, grinning fish who will never stop leaping out of the river just because she wants to see what the sky feels like.
I may be stuck here in this tight place but I'll be damned if I'll be sensible. I'll be damned if I accept a life without play and without the wicked thrill of infatuation.
Here's to falling in love, without sense, without reward.
(And here's to my new camera, too. She's a beauty.)