Friday, May 31, 2013

"Maybe It's Just Me"

Sometimes I have these flashbacks.

I'm standing in the kitchen last night thinking "I can't believe it was yesterday," because the last day of school seems forever ago, even though I can remember it clearly. It's just ... maybe I've spent so much time dreaming that I can't remember real life.

I'm in Kahler's backyard watching a movie in a language I speak and missing the times when I used to do that with my family.

I'm sitting on a stone table writing in my journal and looking out at the view--the field and the sun through the maple leaves that light up like seaweed and the row of trees and beyond them, the blue of the mountains reflecting the sky. It's weird how I hardly stop to enjoy nature anymore, because I'm too busy creating things of my own.

Someone just asked me if I wanted to go with them to play soccer or something I can't recall now, but I had a split second decision and said "No."

"You should learn how to say no," I told someone last night.

"I never give in to peer pressure," said Fortune another time.

I'm sitting alone on the grass. "We're best friends so it's okay," says Nash, or Danica, because they're both huddling in the blankets together.

I grab Danica's hand to write I'm living in the past, because I still haven't realized. "You're freaking cold," she exclaims, and I smile to myself.

My hands are cold ... and I'm on my knees looking for the answer ...

I'm on my knees and they're getting grass stains but that's okay because I'm faking writing in my journal just so I won't look as lonely as I feel in the pit of me right now, because nobody's invited me to share the warmth of the blankets and I'm not sure I want to. 

And right now, I'm listening to a song that Seattle and I call "The Liar Song," but I bet he doesn't even remember that or care to.

Yes, my hands are cold, and I flashback to a moment when Seattle shined a laser light into my eyes and I remembered when he used to flash his watch at me and do just that, only the sunshine is gone right now.

Vanessa hugs me and mistakes me for Georgie, who she's been hanging out with all night, and I say it's fine when she pretty much screams "I'm so sorry!!!!"

"I guess it's just me," I say and I'm not sure if anybody hears me.

I have to leave and Danica hugs me. "You're not good at this, are you?"

"What, leaving? I leave all the time," I say, but the pit grows wider because I'm always the one who stays while everyone else leaves.

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