In the darkness between the streetlights, I feel invisible. The lights from the coffee shops and convenient stores have little draw for me tonight. My thoughts are on something besides spending time in idle pleasure. Maybe I should say someone. My thoughts are on someone who was able to touch my heart in such a way as to leave me with the desire to not shut her out.
Now, I sit on a park bench in the dark as just another creature of the city at night. I am a vague threat to anyone who might walk by. Most people do not lightly walk by someone sitting in the dark, and I don't expect the two girls walking toward me on their way to the girls' dormitory to stay on my side of the street much longer.
It's their dorm I'm sitting across the street from, but if they really knew me, they would know I was no threat. As much as I sometimes hate to admit it, I do like people. It's when I get hurt that I want to become a hermit, and I don't want any detached sort of “counseling”. Once I've had time to recover, I'm ready to deal with my few friends and acquaintances and even meet new people again.
The fact that this person touched me so deeply so quickly has me starting to believe what one of my high school teachers told me several years ago. “Getting to know people is sometimes worth the risk of getting hurt.”
I count the windows on the third floor. Yes her light is on. More than likely, she's there. I glance at the phone booth some yards down the street. I want to call her but I don't want to hear that she needs to study and can't spend time with me.
Her lit window is a focus point in the shadows for my eyes while my mind replays those few times we were together. I liked how her eyes were the color of a lush grassy field and how the gold flecks made me think of flowers in a meadow. I suspect she has something magic about her when I see her smile and playful manner.
My hand is on the receiver of the pay phone before I realized I wanted to hear her voice. I don't begrudge her the last of the coins in my pocket as I prepare my words and my heart for the sound of her voice.
After five rings, I know no one will answer, so I hang up and retrieve my coins. My hopes for our friendship are fizzing like soda inside me. I have no choice but to live with not knowing where I stand with her.
Now, I sit on a park bench in the dark as just another creature of the city at night. I am a vague threat to anyone who might walk by. Most people do not lightly walk by someone sitting in the dark, and I don't expect the two girls walking toward me on their way to the girls' dormitory to stay on my side of the street much longer.
It's their dorm I'm sitting across the street from, but if they really knew me, they would know I was no threat. As much as I sometimes hate to admit it, I do like people. It's when I get hurt that I want to become a hermit, and I don't want any detached sort of “counseling”. Once I've had time to recover, I'm ready to deal with my few friends and acquaintances and even meet new people again.
The fact that this person touched me so deeply so quickly has me starting to believe what one of my high school teachers told me several years ago. “Getting to know people is sometimes worth the risk of getting hurt.”
I count the windows on the third floor. Yes her light is on. More than likely, she's there. I glance at the phone booth some yards down the street. I want to call her but I don't want to hear that she needs to study and can't spend time with me.
Her lit window is a focus point in the shadows for my eyes while my mind replays those few times we were together. I liked how her eyes were the color of a lush grassy field and how the gold flecks made me think of flowers in a meadow. I suspect she has something magic about her when I see her smile and playful manner.
My hand is on the receiver of the pay phone before I realized I wanted to hear her voice. I don't begrudge her the last of the coins in my pocket as I prepare my words and my heart for the sound of her voice.
After five rings, I know no one will answer, so I hang up and retrieve my coins. My hopes for our friendship are fizzing like soda inside me. I have no choice but to live with not knowing where I stand with her.
posted by praiseage at 10:57 AM
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