I shifted from one foot to the other, eyes looking at anything but your own. We've been standing on the hallway of the newly built and painted gymnasium, effectively blocking passersby, and we barely cared. It had been roughly 3 months since you had quit work, a little regretful, but it was an inevitable move and you had to go away for a month. I started writing letters to you, something that you said you were grateful of, something that I had to do to sort out these feelings. Maybe you realized that as you peered at my flushed face. Leaning on the wall and bouncing slightly on the balls of my feet, I couldn't tell if I was happy or sad to see you again. We were always confused about these things. I was only certain of a pang in my chest as we lingered longer without words. The letters healed me, calmed me, helped me pretend that I was not seeing something else, that I was not reading too much of things. Maybe I was being bitter again. There wasn't anything that you would say tonight that would make me explain why I seemed to be avoiding you, not even a sad gleam in those oriental eyes. By the next day, things would be back to normal.
December 17, 2008
the postscripts.
I shifted from one foot to the other, eyes looking at anything but your own. We've been standing on the hallway of the newly built and painted gymnasium, effectively blocking passersby, and we barely cared. It had been roughly 3 months since you had quit work, a little regretful, but it was an inevitable move and you had to go away for a month. I started writing letters to you, something that you said you were grateful of, something that I had to do to sort out these feelings. Maybe you realized that as you peered at my flushed face. Leaning on the wall and bouncing slightly on the balls of my feet, I couldn't tell if I was happy or sad to see you again. We were always confused about these things. I was only certain of a pang in my chest as we lingered longer without words. The letters healed me, calmed me, helped me pretend that I was not seeing something else, that I was not reading too much of things. Maybe I was being bitter again. There wasn't anything that you would say tonight that would make me explain why I seemed to be avoiding you, not even a sad gleam in those oriental eyes. By the next day, things would be back to normal.
