Dress, China | Flower crown, Forever 21 | Moccasins, Goodwill
They've been following me recently.
In a flurry of fluttering wings and dainty limbs, they materialize. Dancing in the summer breeze, several delicate, sand-colored creatures flit about me. I meander to the right, they trail behind. I stroll back, they follow.
Some are bold enough to seek respite on my body, clinging to the folds of my shirt, or descending briefly onto my arm. But with the faintest of movements--a stirring, a deep inhale--they are gone again, airborne.
Then they return, with even more courage. I've become irked at the moths' persistence. I've felt unsettled the nights I open my window shade to discover a fiercly fluttering being grazing the mesh of the screen. I've even shouted at them before--I don't know what you want, but I don't have it! Friends have even joined the effort, waving their arms wildly, shielding me from the small band of flying fiends.
It was only fitting then that the girls I advise at Explo adorn me as a "moth queen" for costume day, just over a week ago. Since the program allotted each living group $50 to purchase their RAs costumes, the getup is now mine to keep. Unlike the other RAs, who were sentenced to rubber chicken head masks or my little pony dresses, my floor presented me with a carefully-selected white lace dress, dainty flower crown, faux floral corsage, and moth pin (we then proceeded to create white posterboard wings, haphazardly decorated with marker).
Here, I've already found myself wearing the flower crown that they purchased in one of my weekend ensembles. The moths may drive me crazy, but I can see a lot of myself in their behavior.I, too, appreciate beautiful blossoms, gravitate towards light. I, too, revel in tenacity and audacity.
I, too, flit from place to place, striving to grow by plopping myself down in unfamilar territory, by pushing beyond my conceived notions of possible.
Until next time, my fluttery friends.