excerpt: a long day for boy

16/01/2010 § 1 Comment

This morning I just finished a small chapter on the boy’s thoughts. The whole story is a flip back and forth between the girl’s and boy’s thoughts about where and why the girl had left. In the story, she just disappeared one day and left a message saying that she was going to Patagonia and that shew as ok. That was some pages ago. Since then, she has been exploring Buenos Aires, getting real with herself. The boy has been very understanding and these are some of his thoughts:

“Today, was a long day ever since I woke up. Time had slowed down or ceased to pass. I woke up early with a jolt. I didn’t know if I was having a nightmare or if my body thought it needed to, but I went from a deep slumber to wide awake in seconds. It confused me for a minute, kind of disoriented me. I didn’t know where I was or even who I was. Just for a minutre. I decided I must have had a bad dream. I must have. I looked over to where she used to sleep and I had a burning pain in my chest, not unlike heartburn. Maybe my heart was actually burning. It had been 3 weeks since I had seen her. I tried thinking of her face but it was weird because some of her features were distorted. I knew they were distorted but I couldn’t fix them. Her cheekbones appeared wider, her eyes larger, her hair darker and mouth more narrow, yet fuller. I didn’t want to think about that anymore, I didn’t want her changing in my mind. I decided to get up and have a shower. I checked the time, 9:14AM. What was going on? I never woke up early. Without a struggle, without any sign of grogginess, I got up, grabbed my towel and headed to the shower. For some reason, I realized right then and there that we used to take our morning showers together. Sometimes, I would roll over and she would already be awake. Sometimes, she would look sweet and adorable. Other times she would be staring at me, bulging her eyes. I would jump a little and she would erupt with laughter. She would pressure me to wake up, push me a little, kiss me at the base of my neck, between the shoulder blades. This never made me want to get out of bed. It made me want to stay in bed all day. She would eventually win by convincing me that we needed some coffee. I never drank doffee before I met her. I didn’t care for the taste, either. I think I liked the social aspect of it. It was almost like coffee became the necessary beginning of our day. The routine just seemed to fall into place. I didn’t fight it, I just let it slide into my life. I thought about all of these things while standing in the shower, letting the hot water just fall on my shoulders. I didn’t even remember stepping into the shower. I watched the streams fall off my body, my elbows, my nose, watched them dive into the pool that was forming at my feet, swirled around and headed down the drain. There was a drain catcher where everyone’s loose hair was collected. The water may have found it difficult to get past this net of intertwined, soapy, lost body-hair, but eventually it made its way down. After I turned the water off, I stood in the tub, water was still dripping from my hair, my ears, and waited for the water to seep past the furry net. When the dirty, yet soapy, water made it down, I grabbed my towel, dried myself off, wrapped it around my waist and went back to my room. I sat at my desk and opened my laptop. I put on FEELIN IT and surfed the internets. The internet. There was no one there to correct “internets”. No one to roll her eyes and tell me to get dressed. No one to tell me she needed a coffee, not wanted, needed. I quickly checked my email and found there was no new message from her. For a minutre, I didn’t know what to do next. Then, I realized maybe I should get dressed, like normal. But, there was something not normal to this day. I had the strangest urge to just reach out and hold her. I felt like all she needed was to be told that it would all be ok. Of course, I couldn’t. I didn’t even know where she was. She could be in Patagonia right now. I just did not know. It was a strange feeling not to know. I didn’t know if I wanted to know anymore. All I wanted to know was that she was ok, but I did know she needed her space. That was always what started a quarrel between us. A quarrel, we never fought, we just had differences. The quarrels would be about her not knowing what to do with her time or not knowing who she was. She would kind of turn on me and say that I had it easy becasue I knew what I wanted to be since I was eight. I would tell her to pick one or two things and just do them. She would sneer and say she wasn’t good at anything. I would tell her to get good at something and to go from there. The frustration would make her roll her eyes at me and she would say something along the lines of me trying to change her. Days like this were frustrating, as much as I wanted to hold her and say it’s going to be ok, I also wanted to walk away and give her some space. These moments often led to her getting dizzy or her heart racing. A couple of times she would hyperventilate or passout. She had more and more of these episodes right before she left. I guess I should have seen it coming, but who could ever really know with these things. It was sad to see someone who enjoyed life so much hate it just the same. It’s like never really knowing how you feel because you are always torn or divided. She was always scared of the future, I guess she didn’t like knowing if she would love it or hate it. The thing that drove her crazy is that she could never control it, channel it or harness it. I tried telling her that you just got to go with it. She would roll her eyes. I didn’t like it when she rolled her eyes. She would do it to silently protest something which is worse than just saying it. It’s like having an opinion, making everyone know about it, but then wipe your hands of it because you didn’t actually say it. She knew how to get me going. Sadly enough, I missed those moments, too. All of these thoughts I had all day, just memories of her. Not concrete memories like going to an amusement park or where we went for a date. Those times never really stuck out in my mind. I remember having good times traveling with her, I remember our first holiday dinner together, but they didn’t mean as much as the little, everyday things. None of those big memories had the same impact as the little ones. It was as if my feelings for her bound the little moments and spun a string of them, or a thick yarn. This yarn tied all of the big events together, connected them, attached them as streams of memory, but the yarn of little things was consistent throughout all of out time together. Maybe that’s why they meant more to me, because inside the small things was the persistent emotion, pure and raw, of how I felt about her. Untainted by rollercoasters, the MOMA or tuk-tuks. Throughout the day, I guess I realized how simple it all really was. The day was a long one of contemplation. I didn’t have my coffee until 10PM. After the coffee, I went to my room and started drawing. I didn’t eat anything all day.”

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