• Mathura Hawley

gypsy

Updated: Aug 2, 2021


I feel as if Stevie Nicks is my friend and I love music that is like poetry, dangerous things to confess in my small town."

“I don’t want to buy it, I needed it to play Mirage at my graduation party,” I tell the Rent-A-Center guy on the phone, not realizing that I have leased the stereo and that he would not know or care about the new Fleetwood Mac record that is out this week. I lie on the floor while I wait for the delivery van to pick up the turntable and two huge speakers. I flip back and forth through the Binghamton University class listings booklet. I have listened to Gypsy over and over and over, learning the lyrics and writing lines from the song into my notebook. I feel as if Stevie Nicks is my friend and I love music that is like poetry, dangerous things to confess in my small town. For so long, I have been lonely and filled with crippling pain and anxiety from childhood wounds gone untreated. I have covered my docile body with 330 pounds of fat and secrets, and I’ve stayed mostly in my room, missing just about every single teenage experience. I reach up and put the needle down on Mirage one more time: To the gypsy that remains faces freedom With a little fear I have no fear I have only love And if I was a child and the child was enough Enough for me to love enough to love... She is dancing away from you now She was just a wish she was just a wish And her memory is all that is left for you now You see your gypsy... The summer air blows through my mother’s white curtains. I am choosing my own schedule, circling theater, english and cinema classes. I feel like taking a walk, for the first time ever. I am not hungry, tired or nervous, for the first time ever. I can breathe. I turn up the sound to max and sing loudly with Stevie. I don’t care if anyone hears. I actually want them to.


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