Author's Note: So, I have a lot to catch up on since school started back. But anyway, I couldn't stop myself from writing this quick dabble.
It's entirely based on the poem "One Art" by Elizabeth Bishop. I read it in class yesterday and couldn't shake this idea.
I hope it's enjoyable. :)
Disclaimer: I do not own "Sonny With a Chance."
She had been losing so much as of lately.
Her house keys were lying helplessly in the studio parking lot, her lucky bracelet was hiding beneath a pile of unfinished sketches, her cell phone was left crying out for her from her under dresser, her left boot was pushed toward the back of her closet; the list of reported missing items was nearly endless.
She had lost hours and days searching for all that she had lost.
Her hair flicking back and forth as she scrambled through the parking lot in search of her lost keys, papers flying as she looked for her bracelet, her dressing turned upside down as she tried to find her cell, her closet torn apart while she attempted in vain to find her boot; the more she lost the more time was lost.
It wasn't a disaster though; losing so much that is.
She could learn to adapt and master the art of losing each and every piece of her life. They would surely return in due time. She only needed to wait and soon they would return; she was absolutely positive that her items wouldn't stay lost forever. And even if they did, it wasn't the end of the world.
She was supposed to go to Washington D.C. for a meet-and-greet, but her travel plans were lost at the last minute due to a cancellation by her studio. She had suddenly lost all the names of all those who would have been there to greet her. She lost their faces and identities.
But her world wasn't going to fall apart because she never met them: because she never went there. She could move on and forward toward the new people she would eventually meet.
The day after the cancellation, she lost her mother's necklace. She panicked as she rushed through the halls of the studio, all in a failing attempt to find what she had lost. It hurt to feel a part of her mother slipping away as the hours passed that it remained missing.
And yet, she knew her mother would forgive her. Her day might be uncomfortable, but she could – and would – conquer the feeling. It wasn't a disaster, for she knew she could master this art of loss.
When she had moved to Los Angeles, she had lost her old home in Wisconsin. Although she would never forget everyone she had met and had come to love, she lost everything she had known when she moved west.
Suddenly, everything she had come to know was missing from her life. The small, cheese-filled land she found so comforting for so long hadn't moved with her. She has lost it, although it was still waiting there for her.
To say her moving from Wisconsin was a disaster isn't right. She loved this new life, though she would always miss the old. Los Angeles was a new place for her to learn to master her ability to handle loss and losing.
Her newfound skills came in handy when she lost him.
She could overcome and master the art of losing him.
His self-centered, selfish attitude already made him lost to her, so what did it matter that she lost him further? The boy she had fallen for was just as lost as her house keys; he was lying helplessly within the subconscious of the monster that stood before her.
Their relationship was just as lost as the look in his eyes when she lost him.
And although she could master the art of losing him, it would always be the greatest disaster.
Author's Note: I hope it made sense...
Thank you for reading. :)
