Pinned Messages
I return to places where things start. Did I really think it would be forever? Something they don't tell you about being a kid who spent all her time on fora, making online friends, writing thinkpieces about fandom communities, opening a chat request and immediately closing it: the deep affection you build up for her. It blossoms in my chest whenever I think about it. I love her more than all of the mountains of hatred she built for the character she would play each day. Late-night bright white documents of Arial scrawl with red squiggles under each word that the tears couldn't salvage. The brilliance. It blinded my eyes and scratched something deep, some irreparable wound that bleeds a little more each day. Blood pools somewhere, especially in love. Especially in time.
The passage of time is something I admittedly think about far too often. How pretentious was I on November 29, 2022? Probably very. I don't know. Seventeen is a pretty big number but I think about it from my mom's perspective and it really hasn't been that long since her perfect violin child told her that she had a dyke kid. I was pretty much eleven. It's a pretty specific feeling that I'm searching for, all the time: the thrill of being mysterious, when everything felt a little Tumblr-y, community, a real big community online, people who'd send messages to Reverié and receive a response from an Asian nerd who watched a fuck ton of cartoons. When I talk to people who knew her (Reverié) I search in their eyes to see if they know who they're talking to. Who do you think I am, I wonder. What do you want to know about me? I know some people are curious.