Dear Drew Barrymore,

I get white woman whiplash wandering through the local Walmart seeing a wall of your white kitchen appliances amidst a sea of orange and blue.

Eight whole end caps display the word, daring me to believe it:

Beautiful. Beautiful. Beautiful. Beautiful.

Sometimes life splays out a collage of bright colors inside the darkest days.

Reminds me of the pink-haired Dutch Bros girl taking my order yesterday:

“Medium vanilla cold brew with light cream? Gorrrgeous.”

For a minute, I forget where I am.

But I can’t find the pistachios for my pistachio arugula pesto I’ve suddenly decided to make for lunch in 15 minutes.

The freshly planted, small two-bed herb and flower garden, with its sprouting little arugula, the only symbol of Portland I truly feel survived the cross-country move.

I wanted so badly to share the recipe with my old boss. To feel that sense of belonging. Look at this food I, too, made from herbs in my garden. Look at these peonies I picked fresh this morning. Look at how fancy I can make myself for you. Look at how aesthetic I can be.

Don’t you love me now?

She’d hate that I’m even here right now, bumping into people I used to know.

They try to duck me in between aisles.

Shifting and readjusting their green and white baseball cap to make it less obvious they thought they’d seen a ghost under a fluorescent sheet.

Sometimes the pain of it all is just so unbearable.

I’m walking as a ghost through the big box grocery store I never used to shop in, passing the diapers I’ll never use again, stacked up in the middle aisle as tall as my hopes once were.

But, I had to knock it all down to fully live again.

——

I dreamt about a high school friend last night, a requited crush that began and ended with a warm, welcoming, knowing hug.

That’s not a hug you find often in life.

When you do, you should keep it close.

Somehow, someway. Even if only in your dreams.

The irony is not lost on me that the small town I grew up in and tried so hard to escape now more closely resembles the big, sprawling city I fled to in my first adulthood.

I guess, if anything, I’m glad one of us made it out.