Short: Interior

The room was nearly empty when I walked in for the first time.

There was not much personality to this space. Not much of anything really.

At the entrance you found a calendar to your right from 2014. The year was 2016.Without missing it, a red 10 x 30 canvas with pretty, melancholic, blue flowers hung, inviting you in.The bed could fit two people, it seemed perfect for the current situation. I could almost make ourselves out laying there, embracing each other. It had not happened yet, but I could see us.White walls. At the head of the bed there was a single small window with wooden blinds. At the end of the bed there was a TV held by a large drawer, where he kept his clothes perfectly folded.

We watched the leafs of fall cover his driveway, from the inside looking out.
We watched us fall in love under the covers of his bed.
We watched Netflix shows beginning to end, analyzing and reviewing each episode like we were critics, or like our pretentious opinion mattered.
We cried in each others arms.
We fell asleep and woke up next to each other, day in, day out.

Rainy, spring days knocked at the window of what had become our little safe-haven.

The rays of the summer sun woke us up.

One day I opened my eyes looking at the ceiling. I sat up and looked around the four walls of the room and realized the interior had my name written all over. There was not a corner of the safe-haven that did not have something I had given him. The love was apparent. You could tell that the person who slowly decorated the nearly empty room knew every bit about this boy. His favorite color. The shapes that calmed him and those he preferred having on his skin forever.I had made my mark in that interior that belonged to him. And I hoped that every time he looked around himself, that he would remember me, whether he wanted to think of me or not.

I drove by there a while back. After the storm and rage between then and now, it was now fall and the leafs covered his driveway, just like last fall.

 

The room was empty when I walked in.

TVdreams

-End-

 

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Here’s Looking At You, Kid.

THESE RAMBLING THOUGHTS COME AND GO like the waves of Galveston Beach that kissed our toes that summer day. After a while of coming and going they finally crashed into me. You dove right in. The sun burned your skin.

~~~~

It’s hard not to know where we stand. It’s difficult to try and attempt to tap into your mind and your thoughts without actually asking you to talk to me about how you feel when you’re around me, when you see me. About where we are and where we’re going. I don’t want to scare you with these questions and even though they are questions I have to ask, I only think of them. They say that I am young and that I should have fun! Explore and meet. Try and fail. Kiss and tell, or don’t. For a while this was my aesthetic but the more I know you, the more I realize that I know what I want and where I want to be.
You try to figure me out without asking any questions, but I stand here, waiting for you to tap into my universe.
I know you wonder, just like I do, so here is the break down of my love life since I became “relationship-active”

  • 6th grade: First little boyfriend. I used to “pretend to not like him or his groove.” It all came down to the realization that I was just a jealous little pretender who wanted to be as close to him as his best friend was. I confessed my feelings for him and we made our way towards each other. People looked on, watching the spectacular show that was a brown, chubby girl with glasses and a small, white boy.
  • 8th grade: First little boyfriend’s mother moved him away from “the ghetto” school district. He broke up with me and I didn’t even notice he had. I thought long-distance was a thing.
  • 9th grade Presents: Gaby- The Crusher (High School Years)
  • 10th grade: I crushed on a boy who never looked at me. He was funny, he was chubby, he was perfect to me. Also, I realized that I was attracted to humans, not boys, not girls, but humans. For three months, I made my way down the halls of building “B” hand in hand with my lady friend.
  • 11th grade: While I still was into the idea of liking people for who they were on the inside and not what gender they identified with on the outside, I went back to day dreaming about the boy. He lost weight. He shed the funny off as well and underneath those extra 70 pounds he once wore was a first-class asshole.
  • 12th grade: I dated a freshman from the beginning of my last semester until graduation when he decided he wasn’t into cougars, but more into a friend of his sister’s.

COLLEGE

  • Freshman Year: In a relationship with school work, extra curricular activities and working my first job.
  • Sophomore Year: In a relationship with school work, extra curricular activities, volunteering, theater and working 3 jobs.
  • Junior Year: In a relationship with school work, extra curricular activities, moving cities- starting school in Dallas.
  • Senior Year: In a relationship with school work, extra curricular activities, beginning a new job. And as I strolled through the front doors of the new job place I bumped into the boy that would be the one to begin and end it all. The demise of dreams and fantasies of years of day dreaming of the perfect person; He did away with all of that. All of me.

So as you can see from that quick rundown, there has never really been a consistent pattern of people in my love life. Most of the time growing up, people I liked were people from TV shows, boys that I only looked at from far away, boys that stood next to me that didn’t want to stand next to me. People that were only for the season and not for a reason. And at the most important year of my life came a person that pushed me to limits I didn’t know could even exist.

They say that love is blind and I wholeheartedly believe that. I believe that you can meet someone and give them all that you are. And being who I am, I will indulge in the other person completely. I will dive in and try to always find the best in them, even in the darkest of places. In the darkness I will always look for the light and when that light begins to dim, I will make sure I take care of it and guard it from the winds that might burn it out completely. When you are down, I will bring you back up. I watched him fall so many times and those many times I picked him up. He never gave me the gift of his company, when my minutes and seconds were his, unconditionally. I waited for him outside until he opened his door, the door- to his mind, to his thoughts, to his heart.┬áHealed his wounds, and when it was my turn, when I would reach out for him, he only looked back as if to say, “I can’t right now.” Eventually, not ever. He said sorry and I said, “It’s okay.”
And that, that is my hamartia.
I had fallen in reverse into a black abyss that was him.
You found me in a murky state of mind.
You said, “Hello.”
I had met you once before, but as we declared, the first time meeting someone isn’t always the right time.

You took my hand, twirled me around. We danced.
We made our way towards each other even with miles in between us.
Mostly importantly, you’ve given me the gift of your time: minutes and seconds you won’t ever get back…you give those to me. And I thank you for that.
Eight months have gone by now.
I’ve known you from Halloween with our costumes and friends, to Thanksgiving, to our Christmas days together. That New Years phone call and meeting my family a week later. Valentines day. Opening the dance floor at your friends wedding and slow dancing to ‘Thinking Out Loud.’ My 23rd birthday: Getting away from it all by taking off to a different state and spending a few days in the mountains. I never really made it on to my feet while skiing, but falling down many times never mattered, because I was with you.
Eight months have gone by now, and it gets harder every time I see you. It’s hard to stand next to you, because it still feels like you’re miles away. We walk hand in hand, you kiss me and hold me. We make each other laugh, we sing to our favorite music while we drive around in your truck and it feels like I’ve known you forever. And then I wake up from this perfect dream and I realize that even though this is really happening, even though I became yours long ago, that you still are not mine.

~~~~

I always told myself that I would never become one of those “what are we?” people, but that is exactly who I am now.
There are nights when I lie awake thinking of everything, from the smallest moments, to our biggest adventures, and the underlying question haunts me, “What are we?”
I try my best to enjoy it all and live in the moment. And then I realize that we live on borrowed time, that life is so short. That even though my “love life timeline” does not show case the longest, or most consistent relationships, that I know what it is that I want and who it is that I want when I wake up next to you.
In you I have found a friend, a mentor, a confidant, a gentleman, an adventurous companion, and a bearer of great taste in music. A beautiful human made of flaws stitched together with good intentions. Someone who sees past my glasses and own imperfections. I see myself growing up with you. And in between the many things that I only think to myself and never ask you, I ask and I wonder if you think the same of me. Willing to keep the wind from blowing the light out, I protect it with my hands, but I realize that unfortunately, I cannot do this forever.

I would close this by saying, “I remember the first time I met you…” but really, “I remember the second time I met you,” for I met you in warm conversation that slowly pulled me from a wreckage.

If our paths were not meant to merge and create one that we both can walk on for miles, I hope I can meet you a third time and maybe time and distance can be kinder to us, then.

us