She told me to write about her. ‘Write everything’ she said. I told her I would, but if I did, it would probably just be about me. She asked, ‘if you wrote everything though, would I be in it?’ I said of course. Everything encountering from the time we met up that day.
She always said she wanted to be a character in a book. Not necessarily the main one.
There were events. I walked all over to find her studying. She’s double majoring, about to be triple majoring in a matter of years; maybe she’s aware of that concept now though.
She wore a bright pink shirt with writing on it. ‘I hate my life.’ She said it was a band name, I believe.
Before finding her, I was lost in the corridors of many desolate bookshelves and quiet studyers. I searched three floors before returning to the one I started on. The main floor. She wore sunglasses. The type that make you wonder if they’re a rockstar or hiding something.
We talked about music and her studies before deciding we should go outside and sing. Only I sang. I asked her if she would like to and she said no. There were probably other moments she would be willing.
A group of students talked with us about a scavenger hunt. I investigated her hands on the paper. I hadn’t seen hands like hers before. But her astute knowledge on the subjects of the scavenger hunt made her an interesting specimen. After making me to be somewhat something of a stranger. The void was only momentary for I don’t dwell in someone’s perspective danger.
I asked if I could see her wrist before pulling her over my shoulder and fireman carrying her in surprise. It was a strange thing to do, but just by knowing her quirks a bit, she seemed okay with it.
We moved forward, she wanted to show me somewhere.
We took a long cut over a hill top. At first, I tried to push her forward from behind, but she was losing traction. So I went ahead of her, looked for the stable spots, such as the roots, then pulled her up after briefly sliding much more toward her than I wished. ‘I’m gonna pull us both down this hill.’
I leaned toward the top, ‘No, you’re not.’
We then retraced our steps to find that we went out of the way a bit toward the natural path en route.
My nose suddenly began bleeding. It does that at times.
We found the bathroom out of the way and I plugged it up. She was outside the door waiting.
Once we arrived, we were near the field. It was great. Then we found a large pack of deer. Probably close to twenty-five of them. I told her a personal story about deer. They were all eating. Some bucks, doe, and others probably chewing their first summer grass.
We walked through the deer, me talking us through it and not scaring the deer. If you continue talking, they might get a sense that you are passing through. And the steadiness of a voice helps them audio gauge the threat. The buck didn’t move and stayed within twenty feet.
The view was okay, so we looked for a better one which led to some benches. She sat kind of far away considering that we had already experienced so much. I sat closer and closer as the minutes passed and talked about the plusses and minuses of the view. The plus was that the sunset looked like it would remain the same for a long time. Like we could sit there for half an hour and it would seem unchanged. The minus was that there were cars passing by. And maybe there was someone in a house down below who spied on that sunset bench spot from faraway. And the symboligy down below. A field with soccer goals in the nearby distance. College life.
We got up abruptly. I had asked her minutes before if she were cold, then suddenly, she was and wanted to get moving. I gave her my jacket so she had it underneath her own jacket.
I ran around some deer then left them alone. I saw something to jump over but had had my glasses on and I usually do stunts without them. This new vision made it seem easier than the effort it required and I fell, toppling over the obstable and me and the obstacle fell to the ground. I over exaggerated the fall and the pain, though I am bruised. I don’t usually do stunts anymore for people.
Soon enough, we were walking toward a pull up and sit up structure, upon further inquiery. And in my weight loss journey, found the pull ups to be easier.
The sun was setting.
I tackled her gently to the floor from a couple years of tumbling and wrestling. She asked if I was okay.
It got dark quick and I felt a strange connection with her. Once I pulled myself completely in her world, holding her thighs to keep my body protecting her from the cold, we discussed many things. Mainly me rambling. I should have mentioned the galaxy because she was something else. I wondered if it was her or both of our chemical and bodily statures side by side.
I felt many things. One, being much more dead alone. Holding on to an intriguing body. She told me that I talked as if I were much older than I am. But I am old, it’s just hard to explain to someone. I talked of my writing, my depression, the different lives I have lead to overcome the battle. The times I have lost and what I do now to change it.
She asked me if she’s always seemed sad. I tried to give her an answer. But in my experience, I get along with like minded people, so who knows what it is that draws me in.
She seems quirky. An anomoly. Something not easily put into words. Awkward. Strange. An interesting bird upon first glance, but once you look at it, you get it. But afterwards, she is everything.
Our night continued toward warmth. We took a warm bus to town then stood by a flame then got a meal before their closing time. They kicked us out into the cold. Ironically, we stayed warm by going inside an ice cream shop, getting ice cream and asked if it was okay to eat our dinner. She didn’t touch her food. We got pistachio ice cream though. I ate half and was satisfied. On the bus, I didn’t sit too close or too far.
Before the night ended, things became very much strange. She checked her pulse because she sometimes didn’t know if she were alive or dead. But how are we ever supposed to know?
‘You seem like you haven’t made any mistakes in life, but you seem kind of down. What happened to you?’ I had asked her earlier when holding her before she fell asleep in the dark.
Later on in the night, I think based on the fact that it seemed like a dream, and that nothing was real, she asked if we were in heaven. She asked if she had died. And me not really knowing the answer to that, but knowing where I have been, all I could do was smile and say ‘I don’t know’ before hugging her and leaving.
The tail end of that night was in the hopes a finite answer to what we both knew was something we might not ever experience again. But we’re opt to try. Though this time, it will never be the same. And perhaps, with a clearer recognition of distillery, we will recognize what it feels like to be alive again.