Saturday, June 9, 2012

To See You Again

My nostalgic reading-of-old-journals has continued over the past couple of months.

I really need to quit. I don't want to claim that I write well, but I write at least well enough that I end up delusional for a while after reading my journals. Things that pissed me off two years ago get me furious again when I read about them now. After reading about a really happy or sentimental day, I end up all ridiculous and glowy. Entries that are heartbroken or talk about betrayal fill me with mistrust and rake at the scabs over my heart.

It's really a terrible idea to keep reading my journals, and I always tell Cassidy I'm going to quit. But clearly, I've been lying. *sigh* Maybe I'll quit.

{But we all know I won't.}

So far, I'm up to the fall of 2010, and today I came across a piece that really got to me. It did not make me laugh. It did not make me cry. It did not depress me. It did not empower me. So I'm not really sure how to explain what I mean "it got to me."

It's unusual. It's melodramatic. It's oddly written. I hesitate to publish it because it's so...raw. And emotional. {I used to be emotional, guys...XD} But I actually really, really like it, so I'm going to share it with you.

It's an encounter that I anticipated and wrote about two days before it happened. The actual events weren't necessarily like this. To be honest, I do not remember the actual events as much as I remember this piece I wrote predicting them.

Without further introduction, I give you

"To See You Again"

September 19th, 2010.

Stephanie sat there on the couch at church, talking to Cassidy, trying to stay calm. No one knew yet. She didn’t want anyone to know. Like, what if he didn’t show? People knowing would make that worse. A lot worse. She took a deep breath and continued smiling and chattering.

“So, I thought ‘como’ was used for ‘what’ like that, but I watched Finding Nemo in Spanish the other day, and—”

Cassidy’s eyes lit up with surprise. “You really did?” She smiled and laughed.

Stephanie grinned. “Yeah, I did.” Ex dee, she added in her head. Her stomach dropped through the floor. She swallowed and controlled her expression. “Yeah, so they use ‘que’ instead of ‘como’ in the movie.”

Cassidy frowned. “Oh, that’s weird; didn’t the book say—”

“Yeah, it did. But maybe that’s one of those things that people don’t follow grammatically…like a little—”

“—nuance that you only pick up when speaking it,” Cassidy finished.

Stephanie nodded. “Yeah. That’s what I was thinking. We should ask Mrs. Melanie—”

“Senora Millen,” Cassidy corrected, grinning. Stephanie laughed. Her eye caught a car coming down the road. Her stomach did the dropping thing again. It was a red Jeep.

Suddenly she felt stupid and scolded herself. Getting all worked up over a boy. I thought you promised yourself never to do that again, stupid. Stop it. Just stop it.

Easy for you to say when he’s on his way, isn’t it? You’re not so tough when you’re missing him like hell.

…I know.

“Mrs. Griffin and David say ‘que,’ don’t they?” Cassidy continued.

“I think so,” Stephanie answered, her eyes clearly focused into the parking lot. Cassidy raised her eyebrows and turned around.

“What? Who is it?”

“I…I’m not sure. Be right back.”

Cassidy’s eyes followed her questioningly. Stephanie could feel that Cassidy was guessing, and guessing correctly.

Stephanie walked to the door, trying to go slowly. What if…As she pushed open the door, her heart began pounding loudly. That’s embarrassing. What if he…whoever that is…can hear it?? It might not be him. There were other red Jeeps that came to church. Sometimes. Okay, not often, but…

For God’s sake, if you don’t chill out and stop shaking and being a complete idiot, you’re not allowed to talk to him anymore.

I know…

She could see him getting out. It was him.

Of course he’d come, how could he not come? You’re awesome.

Thanks…not really.

He walked towards her, grinning. She didn’t move. She just stood there. She could feel a smile pulling at her lips; he always did that to her. But she fought very hard to keep the smile inside this time. It wasn’t right. It had been over two months. That’s a long time.

She wanted him to speak first. One, because she thought he should, and two, because she couldn’t speak yet.

He stopped a few feet in front of her.

“Hey,” he grinned.

Why do I feel like I got the breath knocked out of me?

Because you’re a hopelessly romantic drama queen who wants to be able to write about these kinds of things so she embraces them whenever she comes across them in real life.

Oh, right. Thanks.

You’re also in love with his voice.

Also oh, right. She winced inwardly.

“Hey.” I hope this isn’t really awkward for him. Because I’m perfectly fine. I need a moment. But I don’t want him to be standing there like “Why-o-why did I ever come back?”

She looked him in the eye for a long time. She didn’t smile. He smiled bigger. Somehow, he didn’t seem awkward. He was good at that.

“Sup?” he said.

“Hm…” she said, acting like she was thinking. Oh my God. He’s here. He cares?

You what they say about assuming, chick. It makes an as—

Don’t call me a chick.

“Not much. Just talking Spanish with Cassidy.” She didn’t make any move to go back inside. She was practically embracing the awkwardness. Creating it. Feeding it. But still, she just stood there, watching him.

“Awesome…” he said.


I want to hug him. So much.

You forgive too quickly.

…I know.

She walked forwards, he walked towards her. Her heart hammered. Her last thought before they touched was Oh no, what if he can feel my heart beating??

They hugged.

She closed her lips over any sort of inappropriate breathing. Her stomach dropped through her feet and kept dropping. She didn’t want to let go. She wanted to hug him tighter. She wanted him to hug her tighter.

Retard, he doesn’t like PDA, remember? Get off of him!

She squeezed her eyes shut and pulled away, feeling like she was pulling her heart in two.

Drama queen.

I know.

She didn’t want to let go all the way. She wanted to hold his hands. He had small hands. Her fingers were longer. But she knew he wouldn’t like that. Not for real. Maybe in chat. Not in real life.

Her fingers curled into fists by her side. Why did she have to feel everything so intensely? Why couldn’t she be like every other person in the world and just hug the guy and MOVE BACK INSIDE?

“Wanna go talk Spanish with Cassidy?” she joked, swallowing her heart. It was like she could actually feel it in her throat. That huge, squeezing knot had to be something. She wasn’t just making that up.

“Alright,” he said.

She turned around quickly. The way he said that. He always said that. Like that. She loved his voice so much.

“Awesome.” It didn’t sound like her voice was breaking. That was good. She reached for the doorknob and yanked the door open. The blinds swung out and banged loudly against the door.

“Oops,” she mumbled. She hadn’t realized how hard she was jerking. It wasn’t her fault. All the hidden emotion had to go somewhere. All the emotion she’d been blocking and stamping out for two months. All the emotion that sat behind her teeth twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. All the emotion that pushed the insides of her chest until she hugged herself to keep from exploding. All the emotion that screamed inside her brain, drowning out thoughts of chemistry and algebra.

He didn’t need to know about all that. That was just her.

“Look who’s here,” she said lightly to Cassidy, going over to join her on the couch. Cassidy raised her eyebrows.

“Hey,” she said. “It’s been a while.”

“Yeah,” he said, grinning. He sat down on the couch with a loud sigh and leaned his head back.

This is where you ask if he’s tired, and he’ll tell you why he stayed up late, and you can tell him why that wasn’t smart, and pretend like everything is back to the way it used to be.

But it’s not.

I know.


No comments:

Post a Comment