Hi. So I don’t want to think about what the fuck a grown-up who does not play well with others is. I’m sorry. You broke me. I hope you’re happy.
Here’s a, uh…story. Haha.
“I need to talk to you,” she told me. Giggling. I said, okay, I followed her to a little corner by the vending machines. We stood there, side by side, but she didn’t say anything. I turned towards her expectantly, and she didn’t say anything. I didn’t mind it, I looked at her in her flannel and her galaxy leggings and her black boots, her hair still streaked purple from being dyed so many times. I waited. Not impatiently. Just like there was all the time between us either of us could ever want.
She just kept smiling and I didn’t know what to make of it. I don’t remember how it happened but at one moment we were hugging for a long time and then in another moment we were standing across from one another again and I was asking her what she wanted to tell me and then the chords of all these little moments struck out into the song of the bigger moment, and she kissed me on the cheek.
And I can still feel the exact spot she kissed my cheek, and it’s left me with this burn, this pain, the sense that something is missing from its place, like lipstick that needs to be reapplied, like something is fading that needs to make its mark again and again.
And then I remember acting like everything was natural and like we were completely suspended and I said, “That’s not a word. Or a series of words.” And she said, “I really like you” and I immediately said “I really like you too” without even thinking too deeply about it.
And we held each other’s eyes. And then I did something kind of stupid. I asked her if she needed help with anything. It was tech week and all. And somebody called my name and I used it as a handy excuse to flee the scene as quickly as possible. Directing duties call and all.
And the narrator, she didn’t go back to directing. She went to the green room and hid behind the curtain against the mirror unable to breathe for a good five minutes. Everyone who came in asked her if she was okay and she told them to leave her alone, giggling. When she stumbled out of the room after a good ten minutes, the girl with all the colors strewn about her was there, and they looked at each other, and each busied herself with her impending work.
Haha story over.
I wrote this on Friday and I never published it. A lot of strange things have happened over the last week, once again. I’m grateful for the snow slowing things down a little, but I only feel like they are giving me some distance that has started all the various things fading into each other, instead of actually helping me reflect on anything.
I just auditioned for Twelfth Night and I read my sonnet and I wasn’t asked to do anything else and that could either be good or bad, I don’t know which. I am now going to be at school until maybe 7 because that may or may not be the earliest time my parents can pick me up. They told me not to audition because they don’t know about transportation to rehearsals at the moment, but this is my last show and I have to follow my soul.
I hate that I’m in the middle of two blog posts, because I don’t know what else to put in this one that I didn’t put in the other one.
It seems like I’m still on a tech week diet, which means that I’ve been inhaling everything around me. I mean, really, everything. I inhaled an entire water bottle just the other day. I mean, with the plastic and everything.
I’ve been thinking about the revelations I’ve had lately and about how I need so badly to put them into words. The first is the self-fulfilling prophecy. Philosophy: If you don’t worry about it, it won’t happen. If you do worry about it, it will happen. This is something that happened to me last year. I had all these things I was worrying about obsessively, to the point where I couldn’t sleep at night. All of them happened. In some way or another. The second revelation is really something from Plato, the idea that we all have a destiny on this earth and we must fulfill it in order to be happy. If we don’t do whatever it is that we are meant to do, then we can never hope for that. So this is what I’m trying to do. Fulfill my destiny and not fulfill my prophecy– no. Fulfill the right prophecy. The self-made one intertwined with destiny. The one I keep rewriting over and over in my head.