Catch and Cradle

by Katia Rose

One thing at a time. First things first. Phrases like that have kept me on track for years: little reminders that there’s always a next step, and I always have what it takes to get there.

me. I wanted her to work me so hard I collapsed on the field, and then I wanted her to show me what I earned for being so good for her.

I wanted to explore her step by step like a new city. I wanted to memorize every street and neighbourhood, learn how they looked in the morning and how they sounded at night.

She’s a whole universe slowly unfolding itself in front of me, and there’s something humbling and precious about that.

I’ve always noticed her. I’ve always felt her like a change in seasons, like a shift of scents and colours, of sounds in the air and wind on my skin. Sometimes she’s the first crackle of dried leaves in the fall and sometimes she’s the mud and melting of spring, but she’s always a change. She’s always a collection of warning signs there to remind me I spend every day of my life pulled around the sun by a force I can’t feel or see.

what being a friend means: believing in the people you love so much that they always find their way back to believing in themselves.

She’s directly across from me, and we keep locking eyes, smiling and looking away, then locking eyes again. It’s very gay.

Life changes. It’s always moving and shifting, just like the sea or the sky. The world grows and evolves, and we have to grow and evolve right along with it. Counting on people isn’t about asking them not to change; it’s about trusting them to keep being there for you even when they do change.

I will admit that accidentally showing up to practice in a shirt with Becca’s name on the back instead of mine was asking for it.

Maybe sometimes you just need to take the damn shot and stop worrying about what everyone else will say.