past/present
04/06/2004 12:27 a.m.
The new hour of daylight made the walk home happier. Seven o'clock and bright as could be. The things I noticed made me realize how wonderful a college town could be. Boys walking their dogs, girls jogging in little outfits, kids playing basketball outside an apartment complex.

I stopped there in my happiness, and thought about that last one. Playing basketball outside an apartment complex. Him. Her. Playing basketball. Getting sweaty. Touching each other as they blocked shots. Things going too far. My eyes watered. He moved the next day and never saw her again. God, this was the man I wanted to marry. Granted, he was not a man when it happened. What was it? Fifteen, I think? Yes, still a kid.

My room seemed miles away. I begged my eyes not to crowd too much with water, begged myself not to blink and force it down my face. Then I was in my room. I had not cried. My eyes were dry. I picked up the phone. He laughed at something Heather did. Then he heard my voice and asked what was wrong. I told him.

I was happy. So happy, you know? I was walking home from class and seeing happy things. Dogs and people and stuff. And there were kids playing basketball outside an apartment and I thought of that girl. You know. You and that girl.

Tears came. He consolled me. Asked me was he still that boy? No, he's not. Ok, I'll be ok. I love you too. He wanted to come over to hold me, he said. I said no write your paper. He said don't worry anymore. It didn't matter. I love you, baby. I know, I said.

Heather said to smoke a big fat blunt. I didn't have a big fat blunt. I had three Black and Mild's left over from smoking with my friend. So I said, ok, I'm going outside to smoke a Black and Mild.

I never realized what a social thing smoking is. I tried to avoid the obvious socialness, and I went to smoke behind the building rather than at the front where everyone else does. I felt silly. My acrylic nails made it hard to work the lighter. Work the lighter? Maybe smokers have a word for that. But I got it lit after a few tries. I had brought my cell phone with me so I could look deep in coversation while I smoked. I called Susan to ask if she was going home for Easter. She didn't answer. I called Koye. No answer. I looked through my phone book for a few minutes feeling still sillier. Then I called Eric back.

A boy walked by. He looked at my skin, then at my Black and Mild. He smiled and asked how I was doing. I smiled. Stupid. I think I'm supposed to frown and say what's up? That's what boys do. No, I giggle and say hi like a little girl. More people said hello. When I don't smoke, no one says hello. Maybe smoking makes you look more approachable?

As I smoked, I relaxed. I thought about the present. How hard it is for me to keep a grip on it. How I was enjoying it, loving it, until the past - not even a real, but an imagined memory - came up and hit me. And it hurt so badly. And I forgot about the present. I neglected it and shunned it. The sun probably cursed at me. I was loving it for once and the past made me forget. I forgot about the boys walking their dogs, kids laughing and playing. For the past. Something I can't change.

I gave Eric suggestions for his paper. My Black and Mild was getting short. I decided it was time to go in. Before we hung up I asked if he loved me, not any other girl. He said of course just you. The past made me doubt. Only the past. Something I can't change.
I am currently Calm