August 22, 2002
Innane Babble
I love the campus at night. I love coming up on Pulley Tower, a beacon of light and sound in the otherwise darkness. I love that the glass walls of the greenhouse next to the Learning Technologies Center are marred by innumerable phrases and names, including my favorite, 'Please grow weed.' I love watching Dexter's Laboratory on the squashy couch in the lounge. I love that my art history teacher has an unwitting penchant for saying 'mmm'kay' much as Mr. Garrison would. I love the way the shafts of sunlight break upon the table in Erickson dining hall, drawing my eyes away from Linda Goodman's Sun Signs. I love daydreaming in my dorm room when my roommate Meghan is out, playing Weezer or Tom Waits as loud as I please.
I don't like walking around by myself all the time. I don't like eating alone. I don't like averting my eyes as I pass by so many strangers. I don't like taking seven pages of frantic notes with the words 'Is this going to be on the test?' burning a hole in my tongue. I don't like making small talk. I don't like not being able to call Kelsi or Mike or Mom. I don't like wishing someone would knock on my door and ask about the music that I am playing when they never, ever do.
I want to sit on the green and find poetry again, I want to watch the moon make its journey across the sky with his arms wrapped tightly about my waist. I want to be dorky and attentive to all of my classes and schoolwork and honestly not mind if I am a social outcast.
I want to talk about school. I want to say something.
Was that it?
I miss him. Not painful missing, but comfort missing. Somehow even more when he is here, with me.
I have the hardest time telling when he is being sincere and when he is merely toying with me. He looks into my eyes, smiling softly.
"After my two years at Cincinnati State I'll just transfer my credit over here, okay?"
And maybe he would, just for him. And maybe he might. But not for me. Who will I be then? Where will I be then?
Will I be his then?
"You're a dork." I giggle after he has done something outlandish and adorable.
He grabs hold of me, trying to squeeze the breath from my chest.
"I'm your dork."
astera at 2:45 p.m.