This is what it’s like to be lost in between.
To feel the words of the songs you heard in your childhood resonate inside your heart. To feel the lyrics rise up, and yet not have the words to let them out.
To keep Borderlands/La Frontera on the bookshelf of your mind for two years, only to find out that Gloria Anzaldúa is dead. To mourn her passing, so deeply, so late, anyway.
To not be able to participate in the conversation between your elders, and yet rest your head and soak it in, enjoying it, anyway.
It’s the silence you keep daily, but never acknowledge, because being lost in between is hard enough without always failing to agree that Diego Luna is so sexy.
It’s not an empty feeling. It’s feeling the edges of the shape of a huge missing piece inside your soul.
