Not Out Loud

Lyrics

She is thirteen. The song is on in the kitchen. She hears his part first, then answers it in her head. Grandfather, from the other room: It’s not time to pack your things. Just sit awhile. The kettle’s on. You’re still finding who you are. There’s so much road ahead of you. Her, not out loud: You always say that. Like the road is yours to hand me when you think I’m ready. I’m already on it. I just don’t have the keys. Grandfather: Find your people. Plant your name. If you want to, you can marry. Look at me. The years are long, and I’m grateful. Her: Marry? I’m thirteen. I don’t want a husband. I want my phone back and a door that shuts and somebody to ask what I think before they tell me what I think. He says he was once the age I am. He wasn’t. He was a boy in a different house, with different rules, and nobody telling him to smile while he waited. Grandfather: But take your time. Look around. You’ve got more than you can see. You will still be here tomorrow, but this house may not. Her: I know the house won’t last. That’s why I’m loud now. If I wait until I’m good at waiting, I’ll still be in this chair when the chair is gone. All the times I cried I did it in the bathroom so nobody would call it a phase. It’s hard. It’s harder to pretend I don’t already know what I want, even if I can’t say it clean. If you were right I’d agree. But it’s me in this body, not the girl you remember from the photos on the fridge. Now there’s a way. I don’t know the whole way. I know I can’t stay folded in the version of me you still sing to. Away doesn’t mean I don’t love you. It means I heard you. And I’m still going to grow faster than the song.