I watched the colored lights from the far side. A few years ago I was there, where the bright LED pars were. I was there, calling the shots, pointing at the stage. I used to receive congratulations at the end of every endeavor. People used to make a beeline, looking for me, wanting to talk or say how great I did.
I’m talking about myself in past tense, clearly, because today I’m at the sidelines. The fourth year student on her fifth year. The student who dropped all involvement with her department, including dreams she found within its four walls. The one everyone calls Ate and refers to in sentences that ends in “sa una”.
The version of me people want, is the version of me who failed to make it today. I’m sorry I’m boring you with a litany of regrets. These days, this is all I have. All I have to offer. Past tenses and passive voices and flashbacks. I’m so sorry. This is all i could bring to the table. I stopped being invited to the conversation. I stopped being a page. I keep talking about the same things over and over I bet everyone is so tired of listening. Even this post is exhausting to read. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry even my metaphors are old. Even they lost their power.
If I could somehow conjure up a clone or phone my old self from a few years ago, I would if I could. You know I would if I could.