The Alone Time

by Elle Marr

if you get knocked down, make sure you get back up.

One more day, one step forward. That’s my mantra. Just make it to one more day and the morning might look different.

Generally, I’m not especially moody. But I shut down fast when people ask too many questions about my time in the wild, and that’s been mistaken for angry. It’s the opposite, in fact: I feel things so deeply that I turn off my emotions in order to survive.

Despite any influx of money that I’ve seen for my art, I can’t shake the old fears of being left with nothing, alone, abandoned to the elements. So I keep everything—like a frugal single woman. Not a hoarder, I hope.

I count back the number of lies that I told to the detectives. Count them back so that if—if, if, if—the truth comes out, I’ll remember the ways I need to cover my ass.

Somewhere along the line they started to hate each other—or, maybe, at a certain point and intensity, love and hate in a relationship become blurred when extremes are at hand.

I haven’t had anyone buy me a gift in ages. It’s not worth the hassle of missed communication and confusing expectations to allow it,

The pebble I chose fits snugly in the valley, as if it were always meant to be placed just so—kind of like life, I think. We experience terrible things, and in hindsight, our paths seem to drive us toward our individual narrow valleys, where we either push through to reach the open air of the other side or become stuck forever, pressed at all angles by our faults and sheer bad luck.

The pair of them shiver, crying, hugging each other tight. Wailing across the mountaintop echoes after the onslaught of rain quieted the forest. Now even the trees listen to us.

The marmot stops. It glances around, as if sensing it has an audience. What must it feel like to constantly be on the lookout for a threat? To know that each second in repose might lead to your neck getting hacked off in the next minute?

Twin flames collide in life because there is something to be learned from the relationship. Oftentimes the fire dies out. But there is always, always an explosion.”

“And I would urge you to do away with whatever isn’t serving you—isn’t fulfilling you, or moving you toward your goals. Cut away the fat. Whether that’s a relationship, an activity, or a job. Make sure to choose you. As Geraldine’s boyfriend would probably say, life is too short not to.”

but perfection is the enemy of progress.

“If something isn’t benefiting you, you got to let it go. You know?”

How did each milestone of my path, surrounded in hope, end in failure?

You’d think a more rational, healthy person would realize her passion is a curse to be hidden, not shared.”

And celebrating when light finally cracks through the darkness.