Me

An American Goldfinch

An American Goldfinch

On the outside, I am happy. In fact, making other people’s days is what makes me happy. Here’s another fact: I believe in the power of smiles – and hugs. Sometimes, those things alone can make it better. I also sing, crack jokes, and be as personable as possible to help others to not feel as low as I do. So, no matter how down I am, you would never know it unless I want you to. And I don’t. At least not the people that knows me in real life (IRL).

This has always been my understanding… Who I am in the perspective of others is completely my choice.

Xavier didn’t know the real me until I felt comfortable enough to show him. And we were actually quite mutual with that – when to open up to each other. Of course in the beginning, we went through the normal newbie relationship phase. The compliments, the dressing to impress, the constant talking and texting and PDA… all the while feeling each other out, seeing what potential was there to maybe make it last. Hopefully make it forever. I mean, that’s the goal in dating right?

It was the second time I visited his house – the second date if you will. This was before we had a car – when his mom had to pick me up and drop me off (ah, memories). Anyway, we were in our basement. This specific location of his lovely abode included couches, two TV’s (one for cable and one for gaming), a pool table, a refrigerator and deep freezer… etc. After eating a decent dinner upstairs and returning to the privacy of the basement, we listened to music and talked. The subject of said conversation escapes me now, but I remember being genuinely happy with how great he and I were vibing. We’d connected immediately because our intellect matched perfectly and I felt so comfortable speaking to him. The music briefly ended while switching to a new track and I remember standing up to gather my belongings. During this brief silence, I subconsciously sang the last few lyrics of the song and swayed toward the stairs with him closely behind. I perfectly enjoyed my time with him and so my jovial mood was unhidden as I ascended. When I glanced behind me, his radiant smile exhibited this sort of… pleasant approval, and he whispered, “You are such a free spirit.”

It was – IS – a fallacy! A superficial adjective or… belief that I’d subconsciously implemented to his perspective of me. Yes, my joy was completely unprecedented and no, I didn’t have to pretend about that. But, it still felt – still feels fake.

I mean, I’d only known the man about two weeks and hell no I wasn’t about to just trust him with my emotions or flaws… yet. And I do believe I am justified for not being completely open with a near stranger. But when he said that sentence, I immediately felt wrong.

What does it mean to be “free spirited”? I envision a bird. An american goldfinch to be exact. This bird has no inhibition, no reason to hold back. It doesn’t have to think because its freedom is completely instinctive. Whenever it wants to fly, it just does. Then I envision myself in my old steel cage and I envy such liberation. I don’t have a free spirit.

Oh, but I want to.

“You are always in a good mood.”

“You seem happy today.”

“You always make me smile, [insert my real name here]”.

They don’t know that I aspire to fly freely very single day. (Maybe this blog will help me attain such a level of freedom.)

My name is Freespirit.