No One Belongs Here More Than You

by Miranda July

I pretended I was pausing before telling him about the secret feeling of joy I hide in my chest, waiting, waiting, waiting for someone to notice that I rise each morning, seemingly with nothing to live for, but I do rise, and it is only because of this secret joy, God’s love, in my chest.

That is my problem with life, I rush through it, like I’m being chased. Even things whose whole point is slowness, like drinking relaxing tea. When I drink relaxing tea, I suck it down as if I’m in a contest for who can drink relaxing tea the quickest. Or if I’m in a hot tub with some other people and we’re all looking up at the stars, I’ll be the first to say, It’s so beautiful here. The sooner you say, It’s so beautiful here, the quicker you can say, Wow, I’m getting overheated.

What happens when you stop wanting, when you are happy. I supposed I would go on being happy forever.

Some people need a red carpet rolled out in front of them in order to walk forward into friendship. They can’t see the tiny outstretched hands all around them, everywhere, like leaves on trees.

I wish there was a class where we could just keep going around the circle, around and around, until we had finally said everything about ourselves.

What I meant was, Life is easy with you here, and when you leave, it will be hard again.

Don’t wait to be sure. Move, move, move.

A determined woman might still try, but it is much too late for a woman like me.