Confused at Best

home    message    personal    Writing    Me    submit    archive    theme

I’m so excited, we both said long after the night had become day. We talked and listened, and it felt more like reuniting with an old friend than meeting someone new—He came out of nowhere, I tell them, and I am so unprepared. 

And I don’t know what to say. We talked all night and I can’t stop smiling. It’s just so weird how similar our brains are. I can’t put this feeling into words without corrupting it.

I swear, if I could have had it my way I would have been there instead of here.

Let’s listen to Summerteeth he offers far too eagerly. I agree, and I wonder if he somehow knows that My Darling was my favorite song. I follow him to the docks without saying a word—life has been weighing on me and I feel as though my head is barely above the ground while worms rot my lower half. He rolls a cigarette while I watch the sun dye the river pink. Can you tell me a story? I ask and he pauses before saying

There are five men, old and young, who bike through the parks in a never ending elongated figure 8 that spans most of their known planet. It is a myth, perpetrated by many, that they are philosophers, pondering the meaning of existence. When they pass, most ignore them, but some foolish adults will ask them for the answer, but the men never reply—either too out of breath or too lost in thought. It is another myth that there was a sixth man—this is a lie. There never was a sixth man, but there was a seventh. Either way, the myth goes that the sixth man discovered the meaning of life, and in doing so, was obliterated from the universe by some unknown force that destroyed not only his present and future form, but also his past. Unfortunately, this created a little tear in the fabric of everything that had to be filled due to the laws of physics. Thus, a seventh man appeared almost instantaneously who looked exactly like the sixth and had all the memories and thoughts of the sixth, but was not because the seventh man would never be able to reach any new conclusions. And so he died, on the side of the road, always on the brink of epiphany. 

I don’t know how to explain any of it, so I’m not. He’s just really sweet. 

The bromance is back

No survivors they said, and it was so weird to think that a second earlier they were breathing and beating. I froze on my bike and listened to people scream. And the man facing homelessness pulled me on to the sidewalk. It could be worse he said while I sat with my head between my knees. I cried then threw up and listened to the sound of sirens drawing near. I biked the other way, refusing to look at the wreckage, and by the time I came home it was as if nothing had happened. Here now there, and it’s always so hard to comprehend the distance in between. Please call me soon—I feel like I’m drowning in their spit.

That’s about all I care to say really.

And I can’t wait to run away to Boston. But goodbyes are tricky. You always think that it’ll be okay, and that you are O.K., but then you drive away and the tears start running, and all you really want to do is turn around and sit in her yard with her like you two did when you were 14. Except that you can’t because that would mean having to say goodbye again, and you really can’t handle that, so you drive home alone and listen to Oasis because you’re secretly a masochist and you want to relive that day you two first met. Then you crawl into bed and curl up with your teddy bear while trying not to cry because for the first time all summer you actually have the whole bed to yourself. And then you wake up and instinctively look at your phone, expecting a text from her that reads, “Wake up! come over!,” but then you realize that she is four hours away, so you lie back down and stare at your ceiling because what else is there to do? In a week you go back to school, and you start keeping a mental countdown of the next time you can see her, but that sucks because 97 days feels like too much. And a goodbye is never a short process when it revolves around someone you love.

And I’m not sure if that’s wrong, but it’s been on my mind almost constantly this past week. 

I’d say that was a really great two hour study break.