“To Have Fun” / The Green Room
Dear [REDACTED],
One time when we were thirteen I had my head down on a desk because I was
Having a depressive episode,
And in class when we got our work done early
And had some time to shoot the shit I asked:
What’s the point
Of being alive
Of existing
Of it all
*gestures vaguely*
You looked at me dead serious and you said,
“To have fun.”
I don’t think I got it then.
I thought you were condescending and patronizing and unempathetic and—
Smart;
And I didn’t give you enough credit,
Because I think about your words now, ten whole years later;
Because I know now what a revolutionary act joy can be,
And we don’t have time in this world to waste on things that don’t make us happy.
So yes,
My depression still hurts
And many days are inconceivably hard
But you’re right.
That we’re here to have fun.
Let the good outweigh the bad;
Let the fun be the force of tears I remember the most in my old age;
Let the love you taught me to see in life be treasured fondly;
Let the joy run sanguine through my veins and turn my cheeks pink in happy flusters.
I hope you’re having fun too.
I’m remembering your words and doing my best.
Yours,
[REDACTED]
The lighting sucks and I like it that way. It would be too perfect otherwise. The white light is transplanted from a black and white tv show and so the green tile has a lot of odd shadows and I like the way it makes me look. Not that there’s a mirror to confirm this.
This used to be a bathroom. No idea what happened to it. Don’t know if I care to find out. I trace the grout between the lime green tile, overcast by my shadow. This place is the most comfortable one I know. I like the way my breathing echoes as I rush in here to escape. Escape what? People. Places. Things. The room down the hall is just too social so I come here, listen to the reverb of ABBA music, in peace, in quiet, and mostly by myself.
That was until you made your presence unavoidable. Sorry, I said that kinda weird. I made it sound like I don’t cherish every moment we share. I wonder if this room doesn’t like having me around, but all I do is sit in silence. Sometimes that’s all we need. A presence. An escape. A silence. Just with each other. There’s no comfort like it.
I remember the first time you came looking for me, found my secret spot. I was sat up against a lime green tile wall, on a slightly dusty lime green tile floor. And that’s all there is to the room. I look at you look back at me, “take a seat,” and so you did.
“This is nice.”
“I know.
“Music sounds better in here too.” We hear the reverb of the others in the big big party but the distance protects us. The reverb creates a forcefield. We lean against each other for a moment too short. We get up, but not to return to the party. No, we dance you see, and it starts as a joke. A playful twirl or two and then I’m teaching you the jitterbug, our faces perfectly obscured by the fluorescents overhead.
I don’t know if this room ever needed two beating hearts inside it at once, and I still don’t know it does. But it doesn’t make a difference in what we hear from the interior of this weird little spot. So why not? Sit in peace, dance in silence. Everyone’s so focused on the life of the party, but real life is what happens right next to it.
