Part 14 (final)
Apr. 14th, 2017 06:15 pmDay in, day out. Every day just more of the same. And then we do it all over again.
I get up. I kiss her goodbye. I take myself to class. I sit. I pay attention. I take notes.
I get up, leave, get to the next classroom. Do it again.
I come home and she isn’t there.
Fill my time with meaningless things. Do some homework. Go to bed alone.
Then a new day starts, and I do it again.
And again.
Again.
An endless cycle of going through the motions. Floating through my life like foam on the sea. I keep my eyes open, but I could do it all in my sleep. I’m just treading water.
Now and then something bubbles to the surface. Interest. Passion. A sparkle at the bottom of the pool. I get all worked up to dive down and take the thing, seize it, wrap my fingers around it and squeeze it into my palm. A help wanted flyer. A study abroad scholarship taking applications. An internship position.
But where will it lead? What would make that any different than what I’m already doing? It’d be new and exciting (uncomfortable) for a little while, but then? I get used to it. And then I’m just going through different motions. And I’d find myself treading water again, this time across the pond. Maybe it’s sunnier there…
But it’s too late, I’d already talked myself out of it. I probably wouldn’t be able to afford it anyway. I can only really afford to take risks I know are going to pay off in the end, and you can never know. So I pass it up.
One night I get home and she is there.
I’m so surprised it’s like my mind malfunctions, rejects the new reality in favor of the stable pattern it’s used to, and I walk right by her in the kitchen without acknowledgement.
She doesn’t turn to watch me pass. I wonder if I’ve had some glitch in the matrix and she isn’t really there. And how would I even know the difference? As long as this figment of my imagination kisses me goodbye in the morning, does it really make a difference? Nothing changes.
So I go about my evening as usual. I watch Netflix for a while. I half-halfheartedly pick at the keys on my laptop until I have a solid B- essay. I wash my face and go to bed.
Just as I’m falling asleep, I suddenly jolt awake. Is she still just standing there in the kitchen? If she’d left, would I have noticed? I didn’t hear the front door open or close, but I’d had my headphones in most of the night. She isn’t one to hold a grudge, so I don’t think she’d have left without saying anything. Right? Wait, why would she be mad? Is this about before? I didn’t say hi in the kitchen. No, before that? What was there before that? I came home. Nothing happened. Earlier. A year ago? She wouldn’t hold a grudge that long, she doesn’t hold grudges. Wait, what happened a year ago? What could’ve happened? I do the same damn thing every day. Then why is she mad at me? She isn’t mad. She isn’t even here. Why do I think she’s mad? What makes me think she isn’t here? She was in the kitchen earlier. Wasn’t she? I saw her. I didn’t look at her face. Did I look at her face? Did I see her expression? I didn’t look. Then how do I know for sure? I don’t. How could I see her without looking?
I get up out of bed. I walk slowly to the kitchen. It’s empty.
Maybe I’ll ask her about it in the morning.