My Mechanical Romance

by Alexene Farol Follmuth

“The world is not very helpful to a smart girl,”

“More often it will try to force you inside a box. But I urge you not to listen.”

I like to think I have eccentric tastes in most things, but I like Taylor Swift, too. I’m human, after all.

It’s really, really hard to recognize someone as the villain in someone else’s life when you’re pretty sure you love them both.

I feel like every day I get less and less interested in explaining anything to anyone.

“Like...you’re new, you know? You’re this new color I didn’t know existed and now I see it everywhere and I’m like, thank god I can see it now. Such a bummer if I never did.”

It’s probably really stupid how much it unravels me to look at her right then, but I’ve never seen eyes that make me think about the mysteries of the universe the way hers do. It’s like walking through the redwoods. Like feeling the earth beneath your feet while knowing there are things flying free above you, and things living and breathing below you, and for a moment you just feel connected to everything. Like there’s some sort of unstoppable tide of existence and you’re part of it, even for just a second.

And then, with a burst of beauty like nothing I’ve ever seen before, the sky erupts in an explosion of powder, all the colors soaring up to the sun and falling back down in an embrace of laughter, love, and light.

For the record, I know time doesn’t actually stop or anything. I know the world doesn’t revolve around me, but for a second it’s totally cinematic, like we’re the stars of our own movie and all the people dancing around us are celebrating us the same way we are. The sun is high and the joy is sharp and everything is rich and saturated and glittering, technicolor and exhilarating, us and the universe connecting symphonically in that kiss. It’s like everything we’ve ever learned about force in physics, about materials that connect, about strong bonds and magnetic ones, about gravity and mystery. I’ve always believed that there’s a possibility for everything in the world to collide for a single perfect moment, and that sometimes, if you’re lucky, you get to have one for yourself.

So all I can do is miss him, even though he’s right there in front of my face.