The 'No Longer' True

Once upon a time ago, a child sat at their school desk. This child was good. This child was attentative. They had their mind full of thoughts and ideas, but kept just enough room for a couple more. It was in such a place, a slightly noisy, slightly quiet classroom with enough odd and ends projects going on that this child had just the right thought at just the right time. "If we can make it to Mars.. We could probably make it to Saturn". They thought this right after reading about how there was a scientific prediction of Earth colonizing Mars by 2050. Less than half a century to go past the moon and land on Mars.

 It seemed possible. Truly possible... So they thought up all the truly possible ways it could happen, and came up with a couple more. "If we made it to Saturn... Our technology would probably be enough for time travel.." and "If I call dibs on Saturn, I can start making culture for it! Right here on Earth! Even if I don't make it there myself, people would have all sorts of new ideas and holidays and celebrations for it!" and.. "If I discovered time travel, I'd probably be the first and last person to know". 

How many times have I had that idea? When I had it, originally, it was the first time that idea had ever been thought. An idea so simple, so purposeful, so idealistic.. It became dangerous. Because to get to that idea, I had to go through every horror story first. 

There was something I had forgotten about Saturn. Something I wouldn't remember for a long while later. I didn't come up with Saturn alone.. I loved stripes and polka dots, but there was one other person I imagined there with me. Someone I loved. Someone I forgot. Someone who was waiting for me. 

Once upon a time ago, I was told a secret by a girl. Once upon a time ago, I went camping with a boy. Once upon a time ago, we made candy Saturns together, and sometime later, we finally got to try them. 

Once upon a time ago, there was no new "Next". 

Once upon a time ago, I had to explain how I existed. 

Once upon a time ago, I ceased to exist. 

Once upon a time ago, I was afraid... 

and then, it got better. 

.

.

.

Some time ago, I had a fear of the dark. It wasn't a natural dark.. There were no stars, nor moonlit clouds. I enjoyed that kind of darkness. You could see shooting stars in that kind of light. This wasn't that. This was the darkness of an empty room at night. Shades in a way where the only light came from the crack under the door. A door too far away from the bed to provide any sort of soothing light. I shocked myself once. Briefly. I put in a nightlight in the dark, and my finger tip touched the metal as I plugged it in. That is how it feels to figure out that you haven't just lived one life, but many before. A lingering shock and the unease of unnatural darkness. And like a child, you know that you are ok. You know you will see tomorrow.. But you don't really know. You try to sleep. You hope "Tomorrow" really does come.. and you pray for a better day. One where you grow a bit more, do a bit better, and find yourself a little less scared. 

This is my Tomorrow. I have grown a bit more, I do a bit better, and I'm a little less scared. I still get headaches. I still worry. I find that I still care a whole lot for people, even when I've changed so much as a person, that I thought maybe I would no longer care. But I am an artist, so it is in my nature to care. 

Art. 

That was my biggest revelation. To me, everything is an art. Love, Life, Death, and all the In Betweens. Time travel, music, dancing, magic. It all creates a work of art. Sometimes it is messy. Sometimes it is beautiful. All the time it changes, rearranges, grows, and becomes *more*. 

I don't like how I look. I don't like all of my art pieces. But, when I made my very first piece of art, that was the absolute worst I could ever do.. Because I had never done it before, and now I finally did. Second is the best. It almost always is. Except when it looks worse. Now two things exist, to compare side by side. It becomes difficult to focus on growth when you are too busy comparing.. But comparing *does* help with growth. Whether your next piece turns out better or worse, you can learn from it. It will never be the same as what you drew before, and with that, you can learn from it. 

That is what I have learned. You can never do the first thing twice.. And that means everything you do is the first time ever of you doing it. Even if it looks exactly the same as before. Time doesn't reset. It learns, changes, and grows. So does love. So does art. So do we all. 

You are safe. You are loved. You are right. 

I don't remember how many times I had to live to know that phrase. To think about it. To have the words, language, AND understanding to acknowledge it. I am safe. I am loved. I am right. 

These are words everyone deserves to hear, at least once in their lives. They are comfort, love, and support. 

I want to hold the hands of someone I love and tell it to them. I know exactly who. I know exactly how. I might even know when. So I wait, with a patience I have learned to want, over time. 

When I finally meet them, a boy who hugged me in a scary dream, a girl who scared me half to death, I will hug them and I will hold them and I will say, "You are safe. You are loved. You are right". 

Thank you, for existing with me.