by Kristen Sztyndor
The Last Night
It’s kind of an eerie feeling. It’s like having an out of body experience. You’re consciously aware of your transformation, and can feel it moving inside you. You know you’re going to change, and everyone close to you knows it too. You have no clue who you are becoming, but you’re happy to let things go. You’re grieving and opening. It’s the most beautiful fear I have ever felt. It’s a bipolar, bitter-sweetness.
So I had to go out. I needed to remember. It’s the poignant premonition of glimpsing tomorrow’s nostalgia. I innately knew to take everything in. All of it: the smells of liquor, cigarettes both fresh and stale, the florescent perfumes and cold colognes. The familiar faces with smiles, some trustworthy and some deceptive. I listened to the chatter, the music, felt the heavily coated wooden stools, observed how the stonewalls cast soft shadows and soak in the light. How I always sit closely adjacent to one side of the wooden column or the other.
My dearest friend, she knew. She could feel the fear of the unknown and the trust and conviction I had put into it. Sitting there in the dim lit bar room we were immersed within a haze of our own emotions. The chatter, the music crept into the background and became muffled within the veil of our raw emotion. I wish I could bring her with me but something greater than both of us let me know I needed to experience this for myself, alone. As the tears welled up within her eyes, I could sense the strength within her sadness. She felt vulnerable. I felt the courage it took to be that exposed.
We had a drink, and then another. Our emotions became too heavy for the smoky and hazy atmosphere. We left. The streetlights glistened on the pavement. She turned to say goodbye and I tried to drink in the silence of that pause. I wanted to linger so as to not acknowledge the need to move forward. As I walked up the stairs to my apartment, tears streamed from my eyes. In a brief moment of clarity, I became overwhelmed with the knowing of what she had done for me and it was accomplished. She had brought me to my path. My closest and dearest friend, I am so grateful for you bringing me to this point. My life as I know it is changing. I as I knew myself am changing. The fear of not returning, the fear of the unknown, the fear of loss—all of it, I controlled and molded into a beautiful strength so I may rise and head west in the morning.
This is beautiful. It was a sad night but one I’m glad we shared together. In this small town I miss you a lot. The nights were more fun were you were around with me. I hope your accomplishing big things out west. Someday I hope you can take me with you, away from the past and into the light. Until then, I’ll be here, waiting, for you to bring some of that light back with you. I love you.