// Smallish //

I often think about how lovely small things are. I don't particularly love grand gestures or events. They seem unnatural and foreign, like a wall outlet at the bottom of the sea. Small things make me smile with the most teeth and cry the biggest crocodile tears. I'm talking about the walk you and a lover took one evening that turned into a run through the rain. The way the sun shines through the window on a cold winter day and makes you remember the summer.

Life has such a natural and often exhausting ebb and flow, that small things in it can be easily overlooked. I'd be such a hypocrite if I said I never got stuck dwelling on the bad bits that often seem like the only bits.

But I'm starting to think the biggest decisions and parts of our lives are worth less than all the little things. Because when I think back to my childhood memories or even life's memories, I think about how sweet my mum's skin smelled in the middle of the summer, or my father abruptly laughing at his own jokes. I think about the hot tears running down my face remembering the beautiful parts of someone else's life once it was over. I think about hide and seek in the farming fields that had been left uncut and towered three feet over our little heads and lying together waiting to be found. I think about the kiss I kindly asked for and received in a crowded bar and the rush that came with it. Trespassing onto a roof in the freezing cold so we might catch a glimpse of stars and forget our busy stressful lives for a minute.

I think about all these smallish things I've been so lucky to be a part of and I can feel pride gushing from my heart. How lucky I am to have these memories and feelings. And how strange it is that no one ever writes bestsellers about these things that matter the most, how strange it is that the most popular blockbusters do nothing but depict elaborate fiction.

Call me when a movie about the time we ate creamsicles in our bathing suits while Dad put up the pool comes out. I'm so tired of fiction. I'm so tired of paying for falsification and meeting people who revel in it. I'd much rather celebrate how small our lives are, because then we can appreciate it so much more. I wanna read the story of a regular person who has regular experiences and feels just as much and deeply and widely as I do.