Catch Up

Friday, November 10
Location: Meredith Rettner's B-Day on U Drive

I dance and I flit about (if such a thing is even possible) and I just don't care so much anymore. I don't care so much if I look foolish. I don't care so much if their smiles are only a facade of polite civility. I'm having fun and I have true friends close by.

The release was something I could feel through my whole being, as if weights had been removed from each of my limbs and from my mind most of all. I felt physically lighter, freed from bonds that usually keep me tied to a very aware and constrained self.

Saturday, November 11
Location: Bauhaus, Givens

I don't know why I'm here. Because I said I would be? How lame. But here I am all the same, standing on the edge of a crowd I just can't stand to be a part of anymore. It's too much: the heat, body against occasionally unwilling body, as the bass pulses within my veins.

As I search for familiar faces, the lights and colors swirl and my stomach turns. I'd rather be at home.

Sunday, November 12
Location: Eliot, This Past Summer

That morning around six or so, I woke up and got out of bed, unwilling to sleep away the last hours we had together. I put on some piano music, Moonlight Sonata, and sat at my desk for some time, watching him as he slept. I think I loved him in that moment, as he lay there between my sheets.

I suppose I had hoped he'd open his eyes, find me sitting there, and invite me back to bed in a voice that would say "I just want to be close to you. More than anything, I just want one more hour wrapped in your arms." But he never said such a thing. Perhaps he did open his eyes and look at me once, though it's hard to tell if I'm remembering that right, but if he did, he never spoke a word.

Monday, November 13
Location: My Head

I tossed and turned on every third quarter hour, determined to regain some lost sleep. Each time I would turn, I would be somewhat aware that I was in bed, that I still clutched my cell phone in my left hand, and that I would need to head off to the library some time soon. Yet, simultaneously, a dream logic seemed to rule over these points and make them hazy.

There was some reason that I wasn't leaving my room. I had to stay there because of a radio broadcast. I couldn't go now; it was important that I stay and voice my role.

They were calling me back into the shower with them as steam rose in curls and their naked bodies glistened invitingly. Come back to where it's warm.

She needed to talk to me and it couldn't wait. I was supposed to have taken care of all this already. Stupid girl, don't you plan ahead? You've got to keep on top of these things.

And so it continued as hours passed and the world grew dark outside my window.