Joy

Nicole Maye Goldberg

My experience in Sezze happened during a strange time in my life, during a severe depression. About a month afterward I was in a psych ward. I remember one day we took a trip to a monastery where we were served incredible food handmade by the monks themselves. During the meal I had to excuse myself, in order to sit on the floor of the bathroom and weep. Because there was joy! I could see it, I could even taste it, but I could not feel it. I didn’t know which would be worse: if Gian and Chelsea and my classmates could tell how fucked up I really was, or if they couldn’t. It hurts so much to think about this, because I want all my memories of Gian to be amazing adventures and poignant conversations. But I know he wouldn’t approve of me editing out the bad parts. I also remember the drive back from the monastery. Gian always let me ride shotgun, because of my motion sickness. We saw a dozen sheep herded across the road by an enormous and adorable maremma. That wasn’t joy, but it was something similar.