The Real Challenge

“Never be sorry for how you feel, it’s like being sorry for being real.” Lil Wayne.

He was a joker, Mr. DelReal. He toked and drove us through the curvy tilts and turns towards the festival called “Resonance”. The drive drove us coo coo kachoo like a train that never stopped. Delving into deeper thoughts as the evening rolled in, we began to approach the destination.

A Millie by lil Wayne vibrated the surface of the dashboard as my feet dangled half way out the window of the van that we had departed in for a jubilant journey, justified by this jovial jaunt. A spontaneous trip to my first festival, I sang along to Lil Wayne’s song. As I peered over to the man cruising us through the Appalachian mountains, I realized his realness and thought I want to know you. Check mate, it was about to be a great day. We got to know each other more as we ventured out of our minds, and closer to the rolling fields of West Virginia.

The festival possessed a possibility that I had not experienced yet. I was back and forth in my mind with curiosity and clairvoyance. Connecting dots in my head, insightful, tonight was going to be filled with surprises.

When we had arrived we parked our van on top of the hill overlooking the party below. We walked blithely through the festival grounds hanging on each other, parading out with the clothing we had scooped up at the bizarre universe tent. Worn down but still striking with style. He had scooped up a jacket that had matched one of mine I had picked up from a thrift store years ago. The fortuity of that fact made me turn to him feeling flawless and slightly faceless. You had bought me a jumpsuit, and I fleeted to you to show you how super fly it’d be if I’d flaunt it while by your side. The music had kept us up all night and we were running through the grounds like kids at a playground.

The fog rolled in as night fell and the familiar feelings of allowing the fallen clouds to swallow me whole when I was a child at my grandmas left me in awe, staring at the festivities all around. Laughter filling in the spaces around each corner. Guidance and bliss was remarkably relatable. I never knew how this chapter would began, but when it began I had made a wish on a shooting star to never rush healing, because after all darkness does have it’s teachings.

Setting the mood, I had intentionally set up candles and romantisized this song I had heard so long ago. It’d resonate with him the first time he heard it like it had for me. Raven Song by Elephant revival. A raven reaching out to loved ones in the lifetime before. I could hear your spirit soar. As I grazed the raven tatted on your forearm. The mood had been set, and I had my arms around his neck dangling like one of his glass pendants he had been selling there. Little did I know, my hands grasped together where forever was tattooed on his shoulders.

To run fun and as fast as I could was message I was destined to do. “Don’t run away” he whispered and with a slight knock back to his shoulder I took off sprinting through the festival grounds as bloody fast as I possibly could push myself to do. You’re voice leading me to leave behind what time could not erase. I ran faster until my lungs filled with excitement from the rush. The thrill of looking back, seeing you chase me after being alone for so long set my runners high to maximum pleasure. Barley being able to catch up with my breath I fell to my knees and blessed the heavens for this trip I had not known was so serendipitous.

Howls from the campers sharpened my senses, recollecting the memory of the time i went camping in Michigan’s upper peninsula when a pack of wolves was heard all around. Greeting the community as a whole from the top of this picture perfect hill, I settled alongside where the music had me choking up. Feeling tears stream, i wiped my wet cheeks. Felt i had left empty words at the stream we drove beside where i imagined her glory for the rush and running of the gently flowing water. This weekend was filled with the same gratification. However experiencing l’esprit de l’escalier quite often, meaning in French staircase head or referring to remembering the perfect thing to say after the moment has passed. I had started to see a side of myself I had never experienced before. But I knew this side of me was flourishing and needed water.

Vert button up, now button down, with ease about him that i felt had crept under my skin when I began to breathe him in, honey smelled of pomegranates and vanilla as I playfully sent myself rolling in the deep beneath his hair as his hands carried my face to meet his. Breaking through this barrier we had just dived in as just friends. Mr. DelReal and Kfly falling for each other. As he held me down, mid morning light seeped through the back windows of the van and then my lips met his a few more times before it was time to waste away the rest of the summers day passing festive freaks and binding light for a hell of fight for an anticipated hazey night.

When morning came, I felt the rush of adrenaline built up from the night before settling at the bottom of my stomach like the grounds of coffee that were gathering in a French press beside camp. Stumbling carefully through the circus inspired grounds, our toes seeping in the mud puddles and soggy grass, I paused when we reached the top of the hill where our van was parked. An large grasshopper was fighting for its life, wrapped up in silk from a orb weaver. The winds picked up, and when I met you...When i met you in the winds, I thought of you having such a breezy love, a thing called bliss when i closed my eyes...I realized my wish was to appreciate this. Healthy heart and psychedelic art had me revived and alive.