"I missed you Will," she said softly as I sat across from her in the very back of the diner, next to the juke box and the waitress' entrance. "I shouldn't have left without talking to you and I'm sorry and I know that you're sorry so let's just please not talk about it, okay?"
When I had walked into the diner that day and saw her, all I had thought about was telling her how miserable my July had been and how sorry I was for everything. I wanted to tell her how much I missed her and how excited I was to see her sitting there as I walked into the diner; her half smile and wave, snug tee shirt outlining her small frame, guady necklace hanging from her thin neck. But with her request, I didn't have to tell her anything.
"How was your run," she asked.
It was ironic how we could go back to a time in which nothing was wrong, and everything was normal, within minutes after spending a month not speaking or communicating at all; she told of her month of dog and cat sitting and I made sure that we had plans for the rest of the time we were both going to be spending in Hull before I was to leave for Dallas and she for Austin. She seemed happier and less stressed; something other than the depressing gray she had become earlier in the summer. Her stories came back to life and she smiled more than she cried and in those last twelve days that I spent in Hull she brought me back in and once again completely captured me.
On our last night we went out to the movies and to dinner; again we were highly disappointed with an overhyped summer movie, but really enjoyed our food. After the movie we spent the night lying under the stars in my parent's back yard on an old blanket, just taking in the blanket darkness and scattered stars.
"What happened this summer Will," she asked quietly, staring straight into the dark night.
"A lot, maybe too much to recall," I answered back, just as quietly.
"I remember going on the roadtrip with you and thinking that if nothing else happened it would have still been a great summer, but I got greedy," she laughed.
"We both did," I laughed back to her and then became silent as her hand found mine.
"Really, I thought you were just the whatever type," she laughed again, clinching tightly to my hand.
"The whatever type?"
"Yeah," she rolled over onto her side, now facing me, "you know, just going along with the flow?"
"I guess maybe I was, before you and I became friends," I spoke quietly, nervous but excited, "and then I just sort of wanted to make you happy."
"We've always been friends Will," she smiled before rolling over on her back to find the stars again.
"Yeah, but not close and this summer, and really this last spring, I just realized how much I cared about you and how maybe, I don't know," I paused, suddenly award of what I thought I had to do, "I just realized that my care was more love and how maybe my feelings for you are for more than just a friendship," I stopped and waited on her to respond.
She sighed quietly, "Will, I love you and I care about you and I worry about you, but you have to realize that I'm not who or what you think I am. Okay? I'm a horrible person, really, and you deserve someone so much better. Trust me, okay?" She began to cry and pulled herself close to me.
"Daisy, I love you," I whispered to her as her head found my shoulder, hoping she would believe me.
"I love you too Will," she whispered back through tears.
We stayed under the stars for another hour or so without speaking, just lying closely, hand in hand, evenutally hand on heart, under the dark sky with stars scattered across the horizon. The next morning I woke, packed my car, had breakfast with my parents and then drove to Daisy's father's apartment before driving to Dallas.
It was August 12th, hot but windy, and sometime before ten that morning. Her father answered the door, shook his head signaling she wasn't home and then told me that she had left for Austin about an hour before.
I left for Dallas without getting the opportunity to tell her goodbye, wondering why she left.
Monday, January 14, 2008
Friday, January 11, 2008
Quiet, part 15
Friendships with women, I have learned over the years, are always complicated when there are secrets and attraction and untold truths. Never would I think this to be the case with Daisy; she wasn't a typical girl in my mind and while I honestly could never have fathomed being attracted to her, there were secrets and truths untold. But I was attracted to her and as much as I didn't want to admit it, she was a typical girl. As of July things were complicated and after getting an email from her on July 6th, it would remain complicated for a long time.
"What the hell Will? I purposely stayed in town an extra two days for some July 4th party you invited me to and then neglected to call me about. All day I just sat around my dad's apartment with nothing to do. What the hell? So just to let you know, I am officially mad, and I don't know what your problem is all of the sudden? I'm leaving for Austin and I'm not coming back this summer. I really don't get what is going on with you right now? But I guess I'll just see you sometime next semester. Have a good July. Daisy."
I knew that she wasn't at my parent's that day during the party; I purposely avoided calling her. But when I got the email from her on July 6th, I never expected this, I just expected for it to be another email with sweet lyrics and some quirky conversation with some great creativity and imagination, but for the first time that I am aware of, she was mad at me, and though she gave me a reason, I'm not sure why.
"Daisy. I'm so sorry. Honestly we got really busy that day and my parents had me running all over the place running errands and such. I was so busy. Have you left yet? I'm thinking of stopping by after I send this to see if you're home. We need to talk, if you're still here. I feel horrible. Really. Will."
I wrote my response quickly and without thought. My first instinct had been to call her and see if she was being serious about being mad, but I knew she was mad and my email was short and insensitive and though I completely cared for her, and was in love with her, I was actually pushing her away. It began with that night on July 1st and the next four days I had neglected to respond to her emails and I didn't call her and I diddn't really notice how much I was hurting until she sent me that email. I knew that I had fallen hard and gotten in deep after the roadtrip and now as I feigned to not care and to be okay with my days of running and biking and literally doing nothing else, it was evident that the one person I connected to on a level that I never knew existed was gone and I had lost my chance.
What I missed more than anything was that feeling of loving someone beyond words and the feeling that they might too love you in that same way. But once I realized that Daisy didn't feel that way about me -- yes, she cared so much for me, but just not past a sister type of love -- it hurt more to love her than to forget her, or atleast pretend to forget her.
She never responded to my short, insensitive email -- I didn't blame her -- and by July 21st I understood that she was being serious in the email she had originally sent. I had called a few times and left messages, simple stuff, just letting her know that I was sorry and that I missed her, but more importantly that I just needed to know that she was okay. She never answered. Around August 1st I had accepted that I lost her and began to prepare for the move back to Dallas; August 12th was my move back date and though I wasn't excited, it gave me something to look to.
"Hey slow guy," a very familiar voice called to me as I strided gracefully through the streets of Hull, "pick up the pace," she yelled sarcastically.
Turning at first and believing I was hallucinating from the summer heat and dehydration, I saw Daisy, head sticking out of the window of her car; short hair, silver necklace with a cross and a rose hanging from it, and a smile that haunted me most nights.
"Hey," I answered, out of breath and sweaty, "you're in Hull," I spoke, mentioning the obvious.
"Yeah," she answered, "why don't you finish, shower up, and meet me at the diner?"
"How about an hour?"
"Yeah," she called, then waved, and smiled and drove off.
"What the hell Will? I purposely stayed in town an extra two days for some July 4th party you invited me to and then neglected to call me about. All day I just sat around my dad's apartment with nothing to do. What the hell? So just to let you know, I am officially mad, and I don't know what your problem is all of the sudden? I'm leaving for Austin and I'm not coming back this summer. I really don't get what is going on with you right now? But I guess I'll just see you sometime next semester. Have a good July. Daisy."
I knew that she wasn't at my parent's that day during the party; I purposely avoided calling her. But when I got the email from her on July 6th, I never expected this, I just expected for it to be another email with sweet lyrics and some quirky conversation with some great creativity and imagination, but for the first time that I am aware of, she was mad at me, and though she gave me a reason, I'm not sure why.
"Daisy. I'm so sorry. Honestly we got really busy that day and my parents had me running all over the place running errands and such. I was so busy. Have you left yet? I'm thinking of stopping by after I send this to see if you're home. We need to talk, if you're still here. I feel horrible. Really. Will."
I wrote my response quickly and without thought. My first instinct had been to call her and see if she was being serious about being mad, but I knew she was mad and my email was short and insensitive and though I completely cared for her, and was in love with her, I was actually pushing her away. It began with that night on July 1st and the next four days I had neglected to respond to her emails and I didn't call her and I diddn't really notice how much I was hurting until she sent me that email. I knew that I had fallen hard and gotten in deep after the roadtrip and now as I feigned to not care and to be okay with my days of running and biking and literally doing nothing else, it was evident that the one person I connected to on a level that I never knew existed was gone and I had lost my chance.
What I missed more than anything was that feeling of loving someone beyond words and the feeling that they might too love you in that same way. But once I realized that Daisy didn't feel that way about me -- yes, she cared so much for me, but just not past a sister type of love -- it hurt more to love her than to forget her, or atleast pretend to forget her.
She never responded to my short, insensitive email -- I didn't blame her -- and by July 21st I understood that she was being serious in the email she had originally sent. I had called a few times and left messages, simple stuff, just letting her know that I was sorry and that I missed her, but more importantly that I just needed to know that she was okay. She never answered. Around August 1st I had accepted that I lost her and began to prepare for the move back to Dallas; August 12th was my move back date and though I wasn't excited, it gave me something to look to.
"Hey slow guy," a very familiar voice called to me as I strided gracefully through the streets of Hull, "pick up the pace," she yelled sarcastically.
Turning at first and believing I was hallucinating from the summer heat and dehydration, I saw Daisy, head sticking out of the window of her car; short hair, silver necklace with a cross and a rose hanging from it, and a smile that haunted me most nights.
"Hey," I answered, out of breath and sweaty, "you're in Hull," I spoke, mentioning the obvious.
"Yeah," she answered, "why don't you finish, shower up, and meet me at the diner?"
"How about an hour?"
"Yeah," she called, then waved, and smiled and drove off.
Thursday, January 10, 2008
Quiet, part 14
"Will," she spoke quietly into the phone.
"Daisy," I answered, looking at my watch, noting it was 10 a.m., "are you in Atlanta?"
"No, I'm in Hull," she answered quickly.
"Did you miss your flight," I asked.
"No. I decided not to go," she answered and then hung up.
My not had worked, she had skipped Indiana to stay in Hull and while she didn't sound happy on the phone, I knew she wanted to see me. I showered since I had run that morning and then drove to the local cafe to pick up some lunch and then I carried the lunch to her dad's apartment. She answered the door with red eyes and wearing her pajamas. She had just woke when she called me; she didn't say hi or hello, she just stood back, allowed for me to walk in and then we went up to her bedroom, ate the lunch I had brought and then crawled into her bed and slept until the early afternoon.
It was the first time that I had slept with her since the first night back from our roadtrip and while I was more than excited to have her staying and to be next to her; hand on my chest, breathing in that slow, calm cadence, I knew deep within my gut that something was wrong. Those tings always happen with me; things always go wrong.
Sometime in the afternoon when we woke she dressed in a small tee shirt and faded jeans; neglected to wear a necklace for the second consecutive day and said I had to leave. As quickly as the excitement for me had come, it was gone. I obliged and left, watching her get into her car and leave just after me. The next month was like that; hot and cold spells in which we would go out and have a great time but would end quickly as soon as we got back from the date or movie or restaurant. Suddenly it seemed she was guarded against me; there were no more mpas in which we fell asleep, hand in hand; they were uncomfortable and awkward arrangements in which she would call me and ask for me to come over and nap and so I would but it would be her answering the door, saying nothing, leading me upstairs and crawling into bed without any words.
I loved her like a crazy man, but more than that I worried. Her moods changed uncontrollably and when she was doing well she asked for me not to worry about her, but when she wasn't doing well she cried to me and asked me to make it stop. I never found out what it was. All I found out was that she began going to a doctor towards the end of June and my parents had asked me to give her some time to start feeling better. It was all a mystery to me which lead to worry and sleepless nights and battles with insanity and insomnia. We were only talking via email the last week of June and when June 30th came around she sent me an email at 1:11 a.m.; I couldn't sleep.
"Will. I've been doing a lot of writing lately. I enjoy it. I guess it's just healing for me. One day when I get the courage, I'll send some of what I've written to you; you have inspired some of what I've wrote. What I am going to say to you is hard, and I need for you to not worry; I can't feel quilty about that. Okay? I'm not doing well, at least not lately. I'm not dying or anything and I really haven't told anyone what what has been going on, but just know that this is what has turned me into the unhappy person I am, not you. I miss you Will and we say that a lot, but I really do miss you. Maybe we can do something soon? I was thinking about going back to Austin in July? Maybe leave on July 2nd, which would mean you and I need to hang out tomorrow? Please say yes? I won't be in Austin all month, just for 2-3 weeks, I need to get out of the apartment and out of the town. I really wish you would have not brought me home on our roadtrip and would have stayed with me out there, away from here and everyone. Love you Will. Daisy."
I responded immediately to the email as I couldn't sleep and I knew she would be up as most of her days were spent sleeping and her nights writing and crying.
"Daisy. Hey. I miss you too. Honestly, I knew something was wrong and my mom said that she thought maybe I should give you a break? I know you don't want me to worry but I do. Nothing has been going on at all here. I run every morning and bike and I just hang around all day. But I do miss you. We should go out tomorrow and what if you stayed around until July 5th? My parent's are having a party for the 4th and asked me to invite you and of course I want you there. So, let me know? I can tell my mom if you want to come? But tomorrow might you and I? Hope you are well? Will."
After hitting send I went to brush my teeth before checking to see if she emailed me back. When there was no response I went to sleep and went about my routine of waking early and running and then riding my bike. It wasn't until ten that morning that I checked my email and had her response. It was July 1st and I was really beginning to miss her and that reality of she and I never having our opportunity was creeping back in.
"Will. I can stay for that party; just call me and let me know what time it starts. Tonight sounds good. I really need to see you and get out of this apartment. Are you okay Will? Really, it's weird that a perfectly healthy, extremely fit boy stays inside and does nothing all day? You were the boy with all the energy and always had something going on. Maybe you'll like these lyrics. See you at seven? Love you Will. Daisy."
That night she and I ate at Zio's our favorite Italian spot and then watched an overhyped summer movie. We had one of those good night nights that we enjoyed earlier in the summer before things turned dark and gray. We even ran into some old friends from high school. But just as things started to seem normal my mind began working against me and these thoughts of Daisy and I and what we were began to creep in and suddenly I was frustrated with the fact that we were still just nothing -- no hand holding, no kissing, no flirting, just two friends enjoying dinner and a movie. She and I always flirted, but never to the point of being romantic and while we had shared several nights in the same bed, we had never done so much as kiss the other on the cheek or forehead. And so on July 1st, after spending a great evening out with her; I opted to be bold.
"You don't like me do you," I asked as she walked toward her father's apartment, away from my car. The night was humid and silent and though there were stars out, it definitely wasn't one of the better nights in Hull.
"What do you mean?" She asked back, turning her full attention to me.
"I don't know Daisy, it's just that you and I have been hanging out since December and we're just friends, still?" I was upset and the more I spoke, the worse I got, "It's like tonight, you look amazing, and I brought you flowers and I really tried to be a guy you could be attracted to, but you aren't," I paused for effect, "are you?"
"Will," she started to cry a little, "you and I need each other as friends. I need for you to be that for me and I think I need to be that for you," she walked closer to me, "Right now a relationship is something I can't handle and that's not fair to you," she was replaying a line that lal girls gave to someone they weren't attracted to, but didn't want to hurt, "I love you Will and you are very important to me, but I need you as a friend, okay?"
She hugged me tightly and though she was crying I didn't feel she was being genuine. I didn't answer her back and didn't speak, just held onto her embrace and then walked back to my car. She waved and gave a slight smile and then walked into her father's apartment. I drove home, thought about emailing her and really telling her how much my heart broke when she cried and how much I had worried for her this summer, and I wanted to tell her that though I had missed her so much at different times, that I actually loved her more than that. I didn't though; I just stared at the blank screen, and then crawled into bed without ever emailing. I forgot to call her about my parent's Fourth of July party and she never showed up.
"Daisy," I answered, looking at my watch, noting it was 10 a.m., "are you in Atlanta?"
"No, I'm in Hull," she answered quickly.
"Did you miss your flight," I asked.
"No. I decided not to go," she answered and then hung up.
My not had worked, she had skipped Indiana to stay in Hull and while she didn't sound happy on the phone, I knew she wanted to see me. I showered since I had run that morning and then drove to the local cafe to pick up some lunch and then I carried the lunch to her dad's apartment. She answered the door with red eyes and wearing her pajamas. She had just woke when she called me; she didn't say hi or hello, she just stood back, allowed for me to walk in and then we went up to her bedroom, ate the lunch I had brought and then crawled into her bed and slept until the early afternoon.
It was the first time that I had slept with her since the first night back from our roadtrip and while I was more than excited to have her staying and to be next to her; hand on my chest, breathing in that slow, calm cadence, I knew deep within my gut that something was wrong. Those tings always happen with me; things always go wrong.
Sometime in the afternoon when we woke she dressed in a small tee shirt and faded jeans; neglected to wear a necklace for the second consecutive day and said I had to leave. As quickly as the excitement for me had come, it was gone. I obliged and left, watching her get into her car and leave just after me. The next month was like that; hot and cold spells in which we would go out and have a great time but would end quickly as soon as we got back from the date or movie or restaurant. Suddenly it seemed she was guarded against me; there were no more mpas in which we fell asleep, hand in hand; they were uncomfortable and awkward arrangements in which she would call me and ask for me to come over and nap and so I would but it would be her answering the door, saying nothing, leading me upstairs and crawling into bed without any words.
I loved her like a crazy man, but more than that I worried. Her moods changed uncontrollably and when she was doing well she asked for me not to worry about her, but when she wasn't doing well she cried to me and asked me to make it stop. I never found out what it was. All I found out was that she began going to a doctor towards the end of June and my parents had asked me to give her some time to start feeling better. It was all a mystery to me which lead to worry and sleepless nights and battles with insanity and insomnia. We were only talking via email the last week of June and when June 30th came around she sent me an email at 1:11 a.m.; I couldn't sleep.
"Will. I've been doing a lot of writing lately. I enjoy it. I guess it's just healing for me. One day when I get the courage, I'll send some of what I've written to you; you have inspired some of what I've wrote. What I am going to say to you is hard, and I need for you to not worry; I can't feel quilty about that. Okay? I'm not doing well, at least not lately. I'm not dying or anything and I really haven't told anyone what what has been going on, but just know that this is what has turned me into the unhappy person I am, not you. I miss you Will and we say that a lot, but I really do miss you. Maybe we can do something soon? I was thinking about going back to Austin in July? Maybe leave on July 2nd, which would mean you and I need to hang out tomorrow? Please say yes? I won't be in Austin all month, just for 2-3 weeks, I need to get out of the apartment and out of the town. I really wish you would have not brought me home on our roadtrip and would have stayed with me out there, away from here and everyone. Love you Will. Daisy."
I responded immediately to the email as I couldn't sleep and I knew she would be up as most of her days were spent sleeping and her nights writing and crying.
"Daisy. Hey. I miss you too. Honestly, I knew something was wrong and my mom said that she thought maybe I should give you a break? I know you don't want me to worry but I do. Nothing has been going on at all here. I run every morning and bike and I just hang around all day. But I do miss you. We should go out tomorrow and what if you stayed around until July 5th? My parent's are having a party for the 4th and asked me to invite you and of course I want you there. So, let me know? I can tell my mom if you want to come? But tomorrow might you and I? Hope you are well? Will."
After hitting send I went to brush my teeth before checking to see if she emailed me back. When there was no response I went to sleep and went about my routine of waking early and running and then riding my bike. It wasn't until ten that morning that I checked my email and had her response. It was July 1st and I was really beginning to miss her and that reality of she and I never having our opportunity was creeping back in.
"Will. I can stay for that party; just call me and let me know what time it starts. Tonight sounds good. I really need to see you and get out of this apartment. Are you okay Will? Really, it's weird that a perfectly healthy, extremely fit boy stays inside and does nothing all day? You were the boy with all the energy and always had something going on. Maybe you'll like these lyrics. See you at seven? Love you Will. Daisy."
That night she and I ate at Zio's our favorite Italian spot and then watched an overhyped summer movie. We had one of those good night nights that we enjoyed earlier in the summer before things turned dark and gray. We even ran into some old friends from high school. But just as things started to seem normal my mind began working against me and these thoughts of Daisy and I and what we were began to creep in and suddenly I was frustrated with the fact that we were still just nothing -- no hand holding, no kissing, no flirting, just two friends enjoying dinner and a movie. She and I always flirted, but never to the point of being romantic and while we had shared several nights in the same bed, we had never done so much as kiss the other on the cheek or forehead. And so on July 1st, after spending a great evening out with her; I opted to be bold.
"You don't like me do you," I asked as she walked toward her father's apartment, away from my car. The night was humid and silent and though there were stars out, it definitely wasn't one of the better nights in Hull.
"What do you mean?" She asked back, turning her full attention to me.
"I don't know Daisy, it's just that you and I have been hanging out since December and we're just friends, still?" I was upset and the more I spoke, the worse I got, "It's like tonight, you look amazing, and I brought you flowers and I really tried to be a guy you could be attracted to, but you aren't," I paused for effect, "are you?"
"Will," she started to cry a little, "you and I need each other as friends. I need for you to be that for me and I think I need to be that for you," she walked closer to me, "Right now a relationship is something I can't handle and that's not fair to you," she was replaying a line that lal girls gave to someone they weren't attracted to, but didn't want to hurt, "I love you Will and you are very important to me, but I need you as a friend, okay?"
She hugged me tightly and though she was crying I didn't feel she was being genuine. I didn't answer her back and didn't speak, just held onto her embrace and then walked back to my car. She waved and gave a slight smile and then walked into her father's apartment. I drove home, thought about emailing her and really telling her how much my heart broke when she cried and how much I had worried for her this summer, and I wanted to tell her that though I had missed her so much at different times, that I actually loved her more than that. I didn't though; I just stared at the blank screen, and then crawled into bed without ever emailing. I forgot to call her about my parent's Fourth of July party and she never showed up.
Wednesday, January 9, 2008
Quiet, part 12 and 13
Part 12
June 7th she told me she was going to Indiana for a month, and the next day she and I attended a barbeque at my aunt and uncle's house. Most of the people there were close family and had known who Daisy was, and were more interested in hearing her wild and exciting version of our road trip instead of my factual account of the matter. I watched her all day, from a close distance, float around the group, telling stories of beautiful sunsets and magical landscape and adventurous views; watching her brought back all the vividness of the trip, but mainly just had me thinking of ways to stop her leaving for Indiana. My family vacation was the week she would be back, meaning five weeks in which she and I would be completely apart, and while I assumed she could handle it, I wasn't sure I could.
The afternoon was a waste for both of us, and driving back to her father's apartment that night, both smelling of barbeque and sweat and looking tired and sun-worn we quietly said goodnight and walked away from each other for the first time that summer with really no life or excitement about our next encounter. The hardest reality is knowing that your end fate is not what you want. Something like wanting or expecting to be a professional football player, but knowing that there has never been a professional player standing 5 feet, 10 inches and only 130 pounds, who couldn't bench press his own weight. It just wasn't going to happen and that's what my relationship with Daisy suddenly felt like -- it just wasn't going to happen. The stars weren't aligned -- she was going away and then I was leaving and then the summer would be over and she would be in Austin and I in Dallas.
I was tired and I hated reality.
"Hey," she spoke quietly on the phone, always just loud enough for me to barely pick up what it was she was saying, "I'm sorry about tonight, I was just so tired, and you seemed upset, so I didn't want to push any buttons."
I didn't really speak; when she called, I answered but just listened to her talk and then as she breathed easily into the phone. She was trying to be quiet. I just laid there, in my bed, eyes focused on the ceiling fan, at first trying to keep count of the revelations, but then seeing images from the past semester in my mind, but playing like a projector on the spinning fan blades.
"Will, are you up," she asked, braeking the awkard silence, "I hope you're okay. That's why I am calling. You seemed upset today?"
Again I avoided speaking, unsure of what to tell her. Had I become that guy? The guy who can't be friends with the girl he has feeling for once the guy finds out they won't be more than friends? Was I him? I kept thinking about that, between thoughts of the spring and sounds of her breathing into the phone, until she finally hung up.
Of course I didn't sleep well at all; I worried about her worrying about me, and then I worried that I was overreacting to her taking a family trip, and then I panicked that maybe my only shot was getting her to know exactly how I felt before she left. Tossing and turning and barely sleeping throughout the night, I woke early, ran and rode my bike, and tried hurrying to get to her father's apartment, but as I left my house, she was sitting on the front porch, back to me.
"Hey," I said, walking to the steps of the porch and sitting next to her.
"Hey," she answered back quietly, staring out into the distance, away from me. She had most likely just woke; her hair was barely fixed and she wasn't wearing any sort of necklace.
"I'm so sorry about last night," I spoke, unable to look her in the eyes, "I just was really tired. Are you okay?"
"Am I okay?" She asked back, pushing me in the left shoulder, "Will you acted like a crazy man last night," she yelled, pushing me once again in the same shoulder, and then standing and walking away from me, she finished, "I barely slept last night, worrying about you."
"I'm sorry," I said, rubbing my now sore shoulder, "honestly I don't know what's going on. I just got really depressed at my aunt's yesterday and I just hsouldn't have acted like that. Really I'm sorry that you had to worry."
"It's okay, just remember that we're friends Will, " she said closely to my face, "I am here to listen or to yell to, or to cry with, or whatever. You know I don't judge you."
"I know."
"Good. Damn will, I thought you were mad at me," she said, unaware that on some sort of level, I was a bit.
"Hey," I spoke quickly, completely aware of what I needed to do and totally confident to do it, "let's get dinner or see movie tonight?" I could take her out and then tell her exactly how I felt, and it would give her a chance to think about it in Indiana, or maybe cause her to not leave and to spend the rest of her summer with me.
"I need to start packing Will," she spoke quietly, "I'm leaving tomorrow."
"What," I asked, completely blindsided by the news, "weren't you leaving next week?"
"Plans changed a little," she spoke, again quietly, this time not towards me, "my father is leaving for a convention this week, and so I just figured that I could leave early and avoid spending a week alone in that apartment."
"Oh," still shaken.
"I'm actually getting dinner with my dad tonight, but afterwards you should come over and help me pack?" She asked.
"Yeah, I can do that," I answered back, nauseated horribly.
"Okay," she said, hugging me tightly, "I need to go, but tonight around nine Will."
She let me go and walked to her care before I could tell her goodbye.
...
Part 13
At 8:55 p.m. I knocked on Daisy's dad's apartment. Through the door I could hear yelling and arguing and stomping throughout the apartment. At least once a week she and her father would argue utnil the point of her crying and he sleeping in his car. It was never good and that night when she opened the door, with tears streaming down her face and her body shuddering horribly, I knew it was one of those type of arguments.
"Daisy," I caught her in my arms as she fell into me, crying and shaking, "Hey. Are you okay?" I asked, hugging her tightly.
"I just hate him Will," she cried as her father marched up the stairs and slammed his bedroom door shut.
"No you don't Daisy," I whispered into her ear, "It's okay, just breathe."
We stood quiet; her in my arms for a few more minutes until she gathered herself and took my hand and led me upstairs to her bedroom.
"I'm sorry," she spoke, wiping her eyes and sitting in front of two suitcases, "we just had one of those angry parents, angry daughter moments," she laughed lightly.
"Yeah," I answered, still worried about her, "you almost packed?"
"Close," she answered, focused mainly on folding her clothes, "there are come clothes still in the dryer that I need to get, but, it's almost done. I hate packing," she said.
We didn't talk very much; I sat on her bed, across from her, sitting on the floor packing and repacking. She would look at me every once in a while and smile, sort of letting me know she was okay. Of course I wasn't buying it, but as the night wore on, I just wanted to hug her and ask her to never leave, maybe even to run away with me.
"Will, do you think you'll miss me," she asked after giving me one of her reassuring smiles.
"Of course," I answered quickly, "I don't have any other friends in town," I laughed, "I'm more concerned about you forgetting who I even am over this next month."
"Geez louis," she stood up and walked over to me, "how could I forget my favorite boy?" She kissed my forehead before running downstairs to get the last of her laundry.
I quickly took a white sheet of paper and pen from her desk and wrote her a note and set it on her suitcase before meeting her downstairs at the bottom of the stairs. She had her hands full; I took the basket from her, sat it down, hugged her and promised her that I would miss her. She began to cry again and held me tighter than she had when I first arrived that night. She kept breathing loudly with each sob; every second she held me I wanted more and more to save her from every disappointment life kept bringing her. I wanted to tech her heart how to love, the way she had taught mine.
"Daisy. Sorry I couldn't say this. I just really am going to miss you. In fact, I don't want you to go. Please stay. For me? I love you. Your favorite boy."
June 7th she told me she was going to Indiana for a month, and the next day she and I attended a barbeque at my aunt and uncle's house. Most of the people there were close family and had known who Daisy was, and were more interested in hearing her wild and exciting version of our road trip instead of my factual account of the matter. I watched her all day, from a close distance, float around the group, telling stories of beautiful sunsets and magical landscape and adventurous views; watching her brought back all the vividness of the trip, but mainly just had me thinking of ways to stop her leaving for Indiana. My family vacation was the week she would be back, meaning five weeks in which she and I would be completely apart, and while I assumed she could handle it, I wasn't sure I could.
The afternoon was a waste for both of us, and driving back to her father's apartment that night, both smelling of barbeque and sweat and looking tired and sun-worn we quietly said goodnight and walked away from each other for the first time that summer with really no life or excitement about our next encounter. The hardest reality is knowing that your end fate is not what you want. Something like wanting or expecting to be a professional football player, but knowing that there has never been a professional player standing 5 feet, 10 inches and only 130 pounds, who couldn't bench press his own weight. It just wasn't going to happen and that's what my relationship with Daisy suddenly felt like -- it just wasn't going to happen. The stars weren't aligned -- she was going away and then I was leaving and then the summer would be over and she would be in Austin and I in Dallas.
I was tired and I hated reality.
"Hey," she spoke quietly on the phone, always just loud enough for me to barely pick up what it was she was saying, "I'm sorry about tonight, I was just so tired, and you seemed upset, so I didn't want to push any buttons."
I didn't really speak; when she called, I answered but just listened to her talk and then as she breathed easily into the phone. She was trying to be quiet. I just laid there, in my bed, eyes focused on the ceiling fan, at first trying to keep count of the revelations, but then seeing images from the past semester in my mind, but playing like a projector on the spinning fan blades.
"Will, are you up," she asked, braeking the awkard silence, "I hope you're okay. That's why I am calling. You seemed upset today?"
Again I avoided speaking, unsure of what to tell her. Had I become that guy? The guy who can't be friends with the girl he has feeling for once the guy finds out they won't be more than friends? Was I him? I kept thinking about that, between thoughts of the spring and sounds of her breathing into the phone, until she finally hung up.
Of course I didn't sleep well at all; I worried about her worrying about me, and then I worried that I was overreacting to her taking a family trip, and then I panicked that maybe my only shot was getting her to know exactly how I felt before she left. Tossing and turning and barely sleeping throughout the night, I woke early, ran and rode my bike, and tried hurrying to get to her father's apartment, but as I left my house, she was sitting on the front porch, back to me.
"Hey," I said, walking to the steps of the porch and sitting next to her.
"Hey," she answered back quietly, staring out into the distance, away from me. She had most likely just woke; her hair was barely fixed and she wasn't wearing any sort of necklace.
"I'm so sorry about last night," I spoke, unable to look her in the eyes, "I just was really tired. Are you okay?"
"Am I okay?" She asked back, pushing me in the left shoulder, "Will you acted like a crazy man last night," she yelled, pushing me once again in the same shoulder, and then standing and walking away from me, she finished, "I barely slept last night, worrying about you."
"I'm sorry," I said, rubbing my now sore shoulder, "honestly I don't know what's going on. I just got really depressed at my aunt's yesterday and I just hsouldn't have acted like that. Really I'm sorry that you had to worry."
"It's okay, just remember that we're friends Will, " she said closely to my face, "I am here to listen or to yell to, or to cry with, or whatever. You know I don't judge you."
"I know."
"Good. Damn will, I thought you were mad at me," she said, unaware that on some sort of level, I was a bit.
"Hey," I spoke quickly, completely aware of what I needed to do and totally confident to do it, "let's get dinner or see movie tonight?" I could take her out and then tell her exactly how I felt, and it would give her a chance to think about it in Indiana, or maybe cause her to not leave and to spend the rest of her summer with me.
"I need to start packing Will," she spoke quietly, "I'm leaving tomorrow."
"What," I asked, completely blindsided by the news, "weren't you leaving next week?"
"Plans changed a little," she spoke, again quietly, this time not towards me, "my father is leaving for a convention this week, and so I just figured that I could leave early and avoid spending a week alone in that apartment."
"Oh," still shaken.
"I'm actually getting dinner with my dad tonight, but afterwards you should come over and help me pack?" She asked.
"Yeah, I can do that," I answered back, nauseated horribly.
"Okay," she said, hugging me tightly, "I need to go, but tonight around nine Will."
She let me go and walked to her care before I could tell her goodbye.
...
Part 13
At 8:55 p.m. I knocked on Daisy's dad's apartment. Through the door I could hear yelling and arguing and stomping throughout the apartment. At least once a week she and her father would argue utnil the point of her crying and he sleeping in his car. It was never good and that night when she opened the door, with tears streaming down her face and her body shuddering horribly, I knew it was one of those type of arguments.
"Daisy," I caught her in my arms as she fell into me, crying and shaking, "Hey. Are you okay?" I asked, hugging her tightly.
"I just hate him Will," she cried as her father marched up the stairs and slammed his bedroom door shut.
"No you don't Daisy," I whispered into her ear, "It's okay, just breathe."
We stood quiet; her in my arms for a few more minutes until she gathered herself and took my hand and led me upstairs to her bedroom.
"I'm sorry," she spoke, wiping her eyes and sitting in front of two suitcases, "we just had one of those angry parents, angry daughter moments," she laughed lightly.
"Yeah," I answered, still worried about her, "you almost packed?"
"Close," she answered, focused mainly on folding her clothes, "there are come clothes still in the dryer that I need to get, but, it's almost done. I hate packing," she said.
We didn't talk very much; I sat on her bed, across from her, sitting on the floor packing and repacking. She would look at me every once in a while and smile, sort of letting me know she was okay. Of course I wasn't buying it, but as the night wore on, I just wanted to hug her and ask her to never leave, maybe even to run away with me.
"Will, do you think you'll miss me," she asked after giving me one of her reassuring smiles.
"Of course," I answered quickly, "I don't have any other friends in town," I laughed, "I'm more concerned about you forgetting who I even am over this next month."
"Geez louis," she stood up and walked over to me, "how could I forget my favorite boy?" She kissed my forehead before running downstairs to get the last of her laundry.
I quickly took a white sheet of paper and pen from her desk and wrote her a note and set it on her suitcase before meeting her downstairs at the bottom of the stairs. She had her hands full; I took the basket from her, sat it down, hugged her and promised her that I would miss her. She began to cry again and held me tighter than she had when I first arrived that night. She kept breathing loudly with each sob; every second she held me I wanted more and more to save her from every disappointment life kept bringing her. I wanted to tech her heart how to love, the way she had taught mine.
"Daisy. Sorry I couldn't say this. I just really am going to miss you. In fact, I don't want you to go. Please stay. For me? I love you. Your favorite boy."
Tuesday, January 8, 2008
Quiet, part 10 and 11
Part 10
We woke up in Albuquerque after two very long days of driving. Admittedly the trip wasn't what I had expected; we were driving a lot and not really seeing very much, but we were learning about each other as she was constantly talking in those days. Even if there was nothing to say, Daisy could find something to mention, sort of like as long as she was awake she was going to tell a story or ask a question; something to keep it from being too quiet. But that was only during the days, at night she fell hard. She would just lie there and not say anything at all. Quiet and still, she would find my hand and just hold on until she finally fell asleep.
I really enjoyed talking with her during the day or singing with her loudly when a familiar song would come on the radio, but it was those few nights that I had the opportunity to just lie next to her, hand in hand, completely dark room, and just listen to the cadence of her breathing, calm and steady. Eventually during the night her hand would leave mine and she would find my heart and leave her hand covering the beating muscle for the rest of the night.
Secretly I was not just falling for her, but falling in love with her and at nineteen I wasn't sure how much my young heart, the same that she kept hold of during the night, was going to be able to handle of her and the emotion she was pumping into me.
"How'd you sleep," she asked rolling out of the bed, wearing a large flannel shirt that was probably her father's and a pair of scrubs that just like the shirt were entirely too big, "for some reason, the past two nights have been amazing sleep for me."
Honestly I hadn't slept very much. Those two nights she had spoke of, I spent watching her and listening to her and thinking that at that moment it was possible that there wasn't anyone else as lucky as me; holding onto my heart was the most beautiful girl I had ever met.
"Yeah, I slept great," I lied as she brushed her teeth and pulled her hair back into a ponytail, "I'm just going to get a quick shower and then Flagstaff?"
"I can't wait," she smiled between brushes.
Flagstaff was my favorite stop on the trip; sitting an hour from the Grand Canyon National Park, we spent the day discovering the Arizona town and enjoying for the first time on the trip a full day without much driving. She found a new energy with the town's people selling her jewelry and fabric and beads and such; I just found an energy from watching her dance and smile her way through the day.
"We can make it to Los Angeles by lunch tomorrow," she spoke to me as I stepped out of the shower, her head was stuck in the road map, plotting our next stop.
"What about the Grand Canyon," I asked, as we had earlier decided to make it our first stop in the morning.
"I figure we can stop through on the way back?"
"Yeah," I answered, excited about Los Angeles, "you want to get something for dinner?"
Every night of the trip we spent at a Crackerbarrel for dinner, concluding that we needed at least one meal that didn't involve peanut butter and jelly. That night we sat at a table in the very back corner of the restaurant and had this very nice waitress named Janice -- she had red hair and wore a necklace very similar to the one Daisy was wearing: silver with two children hand in hand dangling from the silver strand.
"What brings you two from Texas," she asked, then explained that she knew we were from Texas because she had seen us park my car and noted the Texas license plate.
"We're running away to get married," Daisy answered quietly, as if it were a secret, and then winked to me and took my hand across the table.
"Well how old are the two of you," she asked just as quietly as Daisy had spoken, "he doesn't look any older than fifteen."
"I'm nineteen," I responded, smiling, but definitely not flattered.
"Well," she sighed, "I suppose all I can say is sometimes it's better to be crazy in love than sane and miserable," she then took our orders and left us alone to eat our dinner.
That night as we laid down to sleep I thought to ask her where she came up with the idea of lying to the waitress. But she found my hand first and placed her's inside of it and then reached up and kissed my cheek before falling quietly asleep.
...
Part 11
Los Angeles, Santa Monica, Malibu, Palm Springs, and the Grand Canyon and back are all like a blurred photo, bleeding into one another. There were more conversations, more quiet nights, lots more driving, but in the end when we pulled into my parent's drive way ending our road trip and having spent seven nights and eight days with each other I was completely in love and that night when I went to bed, alone in my room at my parent's house, I couldn't fall to sleep.
"Will," she whispered into the phone, "are you awake?" It was 11:11 that night.
"No," I answered, "you?"
"Do you want me to let you go," she whispered even lower than the first time she spoke.
"No," I answered back, "actually I'm wide awake," and then before giving her the opportunity to speak, I did, "Daisy, I miss you."
"Will," she laughed quietly, still whispering, "are you not tired of me? We did just spend the last 8 days together."
"No. Are you tired of me?"
"No. I can't sleep," she answered.
"Me either."
"I'm outside of your house," she spoke, "can I sleep with you tonight?"
"Yeah."
Sneaking quietly through the house we slid into my bed, in the dark of the night, and just like the previous seven nights she took my hand and shut her eyes.
"Daisy," I whispered into her ear.
"Yes Will?"
"Before you fall to sleep, I did miss you tonight, but when I said I missed you, I really meant from the time we last saw each other," she stopped me.
"My birthday," she asked.
"Yes. Until now, I missed you horribly."
"I missed you too Will," she answered, eyes closed, breathing relaxed and steady.
I'm sure that morning my parents found her asleep in my bed with me, but they didn't say anything -- when we woke the house was empty. We ate breakfast quietly before she left to emet another one of her friends. Throughout the next week she and I spent only about an hour together each day, eating lunch and catching up on the previous day -- we had to ween ourselves off to each other. But I couldn't take my mind off of her, and seeing her for lunch each day just reminded me of what I was missing. It was sometime about a week after our first night back home that my mother confessed to finding us that morning. She asked me if Daisy and I were now more than friends and while I would have loved to say yes, I couldn't because I didn't know.
My mother had heard my excitement from my stories of visiting Daisy and she had watched us sit on the porch before the road trip and she had witnessed our daily lunch dates and deep down she knew her boy had fallen in love.
Nine days after the roadtrip and two days after the conversation with my mother Daisy and I went out to the movies. We got there twenty minutes before the start time just to sit in the dark theatre and talk; it was what we did everytime I went to Austin during the semester.
"So my mother asked me if you and I had become more than just friends," I spoke quietly as there was another couple in the theatre.
"What'd you tell her," she asked between bites of popcorn.
"Well, first it was embarrassing and awkward because she said she saw us that morning in the bed asleep," I laughed, somewhat nervous of the conversation, "but I told her we were just friends."
"Really," she asked, not really too involved.
"Yeah."
"Do you think you could date me Will," she asked, this time looking directly into my eyes.
"Yes," I answered, "I guess so."
"Well I could definitely date you," she smiled.
"Have you thought about this," I asked, suddenly wishing the movie would never begin.
"Yeah, I guess," she answered, not looking at me, "but I'm leaving next week, so I guess it doesn't matter."
"Where are you going?"
"Indiana for a month to visit my cousin," she replied quickly as the movie began.
We woke up in Albuquerque after two very long days of driving. Admittedly the trip wasn't what I had expected; we were driving a lot and not really seeing very much, but we were learning about each other as she was constantly talking in those days. Even if there was nothing to say, Daisy could find something to mention, sort of like as long as she was awake she was going to tell a story or ask a question; something to keep it from being too quiet. But that was only during the days, at night she fell hard. She would just lie there and not say anything at all. Quiet and still, she would find my hand and just hold on until she finally fell asleep.
I really enjoyed talking with her during the day or singing with her loudly when a familiar song would come on the radio, but it was those few nights that I had the opportunity to just lie next to her, hand in hand, completely dark room, and just listen to the cadence of her breathing, calm and steady. Eventually during the night her hand would leave mine and she would find my heart and leave her hand covering the beating muscle for the rest of the night.
Secretly I was not just falling for her, but falling in love with her and at nineteen I wasn't sure how much my young heart, the same that she kept hold of during the night, was going to be able to handle of her and the emotion she was pumping into me.
"How'd you sleep," she asked rolling out of the bed, wearing a large flannel shirt that was probably her father's and a pair of scrubs that just like the shirt were entirely too big, "for some reason, the past two nights have been amazing sleep for me."
Honestly I hadn't slept very much. Those two nights she had spoke of, I spent watching her and listening to her and thinking that at that moment it was possible that there wasn't anyone else as lucky as me; holding onto my heart was the most beautiful girl I had ever met.
"Yeah, I slept great," I lied as she brushed her teeth and pulled her hair back into a ponytail, "I'm just going to get a quick shower and then Flagstaff?"
"I can't wait," she smiled between brushes.
Flagstaff was my favorite stop on the trip; sitting an hour from the Grand Canyon National Park, we spent the day discovering the Arizona town and enjoying for the first time on the trip a full day without much driving. She found a new energy with the town's people selling her jewelry and fabric and beads and such; I just found an energy from watching her dance and smile her way through the day.
"We can make it to Los Angeles by lunch tomorrow," she spoke to me as I stepped out of the shower, her head was stuck in the road map, plotting our next stop.
"What about the Grand Canyon," I asked, as we had earlier decided to make it our first stop in the morning.
"I figure we can stop through on the way back?"
"Yeah," I answered, excited about Los Angeles, "you want to get something for dinner?"
Every night of the trip we spent at a Crackerbarrel for dinner, concluding that we needed at least one meal that didn't involve peanut butter and jelly. That night we sat at a table in the very back corner of the restaurant and had this very nice waitress named Janice -- she had red hair and wore a necklace very similar to the one Daisy was wearing: silver with two children hand in hand dangling from the silver strand.
"What brings you two from Texas," she asked, then explained that she knew we were from Texas because she had seen us park my car and noted the Texas license plate.
"We're running away to get married," Daisy answered quietly, as if it were a secret, and then winked to me and took my hand across the table.
"Well how old are the two of you," she asked just as quietly as Daisy had spoken, "he doesn't look any older than fifteen."
"I'm nineteen," I responded, smiling, but definitely not flattered.
"Well," she sighed, "I suppose all I can say is sometimes it's better to be crazy in love than sane and miserable," she then took our orders and left us alone to eat our dinner.
That night as we laid down to sleep I thought to ask her where she came up with the idea of lying to the waitress. But she found my hand first and placed her's inside of it and then reached up and kissed my cheek before falling quietly asleep.
...
Part 11
Los Angeles, Santa Monica, Malibu, Palm Springs, and the Grand Canyon and back are all like a blurred photo, bleeding into one another. There were more conversations, more quiet nights, lots more driving, but in the end when we pulled into my parent's drive way ending our road trip and having spent seven nights and eight days with each other I was completely in love and that night when I went to bed, alone in my room at my parent's house, I couldn't fall to sleep.
"Will," she whispered into the phone, "are you awake?" It was 11:11 that night.
"No," I answered, "you?"
"Do you want me to let you go," she whispered even lower than the first time she spoke.
"No," I answered back, "actually I'm wide awake," and then before giving her the opportunity to speak, I did, "Daisy, I miss you."
"Will," she laughed quietly, still whispering, "are you not tired of me? We did just spend the last 8 days together."
"No. Are you tired of me?"
"No. I can't sleep," she answered.
"Me either."
"I'm outside of your house," she spoke, "can I sleep with you tonight?"
"Yeah."
Sneaking quietly through the house we slid into my bed, in the dark of the night, and just like the previous seven nights she took my hand and shut her eyes.
"Daisy," I whispered into her ear.
"Yes Will?"
"Before you fall to sleep, I did miss you tonight, but when I said I missed you, I really meant from the time we last saw each other," she stopped me.
"My birthday," she asked.
"Yes. Until now, I missed you horribly."
"I missed you too Will," she answered, eyes closed, breathing relaxed and steady.
I'm sure that morning my parents found her asleep in my bed with me, but they didn't say anything -- when we woke the house was empty. We ate breakfast quietly before she left to emet another one of her friends. Throughout the next week she and I spent only about an hour together each day, eating lunch and catching up on the previous day -- we had to ween ourselves off to each other. But I couldn't take my mind off of her, and seeing her for lunch each day just reminded me of what I was missing. It was sometime about a week after our first night back home that my mother confessed to finding us that morning. She asked me if Daisy and I were now more than friends and while I would have loved to say yes, I couldn't because I didn't know.
My mother had heard my excitement from my stories of visiting Daisy and she had watched us sit on the porch before the road trip and she had witnessed our daily lunch dates and deep down she knew her boy had fallen in love.
Nine days after the roadtrip and two days after the conversation with my mother Daisy and I went out to the movies. We got there twenty minutes before the start time just to sit in the dark theatre and talk; it was what we did everytime I went to Austin during the semester.
"So my mother asked me if you and I had become more than just friends," I spoke quietly as there was another couple in the theatre.
"What'd you tell her," she asked between bites of popcorn.
"Well, first it was embarrassing and awkward because she said she saw us that morning in the bed asleep," I laughed, somewhat nervous of the conversation, "but I told her we were just friends."
"Really," she asked, not really too involved.
"Yeah."
"Do you think you could date me Will," she asked, this time looking directly into my eyes.
"Yes," I answered, "I guess so."
"Well I could definitely date you," she smiled.
"Have you thought about this," I asked, suddenly wishing the movie would never begin.
"Yeah, I guess," she answered, not looking at me, "but I'm leaving next week, so I guess it doesn't matter."
"Where are you going?"
"Indiana for a month to visit my cousin," she replied quickly as the movie began.
Saturday, January 5, 2008
Quiet, part 9
Coming home was something I had been looking forward to the entire semester in Dallas; not because I could see Daisy, but because I genuinely missed home. Of course, seeing Daisy would be a bonus, and I knew that she had already been home for a week or so as she and my mother had had a few visits. From what my mother said, Daisy had ridden her bike to my parent's home a few times and waited on the front porch until my she got home for lunch and then she'd eat with her and just talk about her semester and how much she loved Austin, but how she couldn't wait to see the world, and to become involved in something she felt was more important than just classes and midterms. She also told my mother that she couldn't wait to see me and that she was excited that we'd have a full summer of spending time together.
The first day I saw her was May 14th, the morning of my mother's birthday. I had woke early that morning to run and ride my bike before the Texas heat set in for the day. Sometime after nine that morning, after I had showered and prepared peanut butter toast and sweet tea, I found her on the porch, sitting silently. Her hair was cut a little shorter than I had ever seen it and she had on a camouflage tee shirt with Hughes written in the back in pink and she was wearing a really large hemp necklace that was unlike any piece of jewelry she ever wore (usually it was silver or gold or full of diamonds). As I walked out of the front door and onto the porch, she turned and smiled and then motioned for me to sit beside her.
"Jeez Louis you're skinny," she spoke quietly, joking lightly, "Well it's now May the 14th, your lovely mother's birthday," she spoke like an excited child, "you should give her this for me," she paused from speaking and placed a sealed envelope into my lap, "so where have you been?"
"Dallas," I laughed to her, taking the envelope out of my lap and placing it on the steps next to me, "and you're looking well."
She put her arm around me and hugged tightly; it had been the night of her birthday since I last had contact with her. Nothing had changed, and I was beginning to wonder if I had fallen in love with her.
"Seriously Will, Dallas and Austin," she sighed and stood, walking away from where we had been sitting, "now we're trapped in Hull for an entire summer?"
"I actually want to be here," I responded, following her out into my parent's lawn.
"But this is our first summer that we're really, you know, not bound to anything. No huge preparations for this big life change that was college, no having to work our asses off to pay for school, we've just got a full summer and nothing to do," she spun around under the sun, much like she had that night in December when she spun in my jacket under the stars.
"What do you want to do?"
"Adventure," she answered back wildly, "that's exactly what we need."
"Well," I started to speak before running to catch her from falling dizzily to the ground, "what do you suggest," I asked as I caught her from falling, holding her in my arms.
"I want to see the Grand Canyon," she whispered into my ear as if it were secret I couldn't share with anyone, "it's in Arizona, and one night I had a dream that I drove into Flagstaff, had a bagel and juice, and then drove straight into the Grand Canyon National Park and had this, you know, Sidhartha type of experience," she finished, still whispering, and then pulled away from me and made her way back to the shade of the porch.
"Let's go then," I said, before fully thinking through what I was committing to.
Her eyes lit up and she motioned for me to sit beside her again. I did, hoping that we could stay sitting for more than two minutes. We ended up sitting for two hours, just talking and thinking if we could really go to Arizona and if at nineteen my parents would actually allow a trip of that magnitude. It would after all, be two teenagers, from a small, country town, driving half way across the country and back. And that's not even considering that my parents were extremely old fashioned and generally strict, which meant they would never let me go on this adventure, with this girl.
But after an entire afternoon of mapping our course and contacting hotels in which we would stay along the way, and then figuring out how much the trip would cost us and how long it would take, Daisy convinced my parents to let us go. It wasn't even hard; she presented the maps, all of the hotel information and then swore she would take care of me. My parents loved her and trusted her and after hearing her we were going to Arizona to see the Grand Canyon.
After eating dinner with my parents I walked her outside to her car and she hugged me, excited at our new opportunity and adventure and then whispered into my ear 'Thank you Will,' before driving home for the night. Six days later we had packed my car, hugged my parents goodbye and ventured out on our own. It was the morning of my nineteenth birthday.
The first day I saw her was May 14th, the morning of my mother's birthday. I had woke early that morning to run and ride my bike before the Texas heat set in for the day. Sometime after nine that morning, after I had showered and prepared peanut butter toast and sweet tea, I found her on the porch, sitting silently. Her hair was cut a little shorter than I had ever seen it and she had on a camouflage tee shirt with Hughes written in the back in pink and she was wearing a really large hemp necklace that was unlike any piece of jewelry she ever wore (usually it was silver or gold or full of diamonds). As I walked out of the front door and onto the porch, she turned and smiled and then motioned for me to sit beside her.
"Jeez Louis you're skinny," she spoke quietly, joking lightly, "Well it's now May the 14th, your lovely mother's birthday," she spoke like an excited child, "you should give her this for me," she paused from speaking and placed a sealed envelope into my lap, "so where have you been?"
"Dallas," I laughed to her, taking the envelope out of my lap and placing it on the steps next to me, "and you're looking well."
She put her arm around me and hugged tightly; it had been the night of her birthday since I last had contact with her. Nothing had changed, and I was beginning to wonder if I had fallen in love with her.
"Seriously Will, Dallas and Austin," she sighed and stood, walking away from where we had been sitting, "now we're trapped in Hull for an entire summer?"
"I actually want to be here," I responded, following her out into my parent's lawn.
"But this is our first summer that we're really, you know, not bound to anything. No huge preparations for this big life change that was college, no having to work our asses off to pay for school, we've just got a full summer and nothing to do," she spun around under the sun, much like she had that night in December when she spun in my jacket under the stars.
"What do you want to do?"
"Adventure," she answered back wildly, "that's exactly what we need."
"Well," I started to speak before running to catch her from falling dizzily to the ground, "what do you suggest," I asked as I caught her from falling, holding her in my arms.
"I want to see the Grand Canyon," she whispered into my ear as if it were secret I couldn't share with anyone, "it's in Arizona, and one night I had a dream that I drove into Flagstaff, had a bagel and juice, and then drove straight into the Grand Canyon National Park and had this, you know, Sidhartha type of experience," she finished, still whispering, and then pulled away from me and made her way back to the shade of the porch.
"Let's go then," I said, before fully thinking through what I was committing to.
Her eyes lit up and she motioned for me to sit beside her again. I did, hoping that we could stay sitting for more than two minutes. We ended up sitting for two hours, just talking and thinking if we could really go to Arizona and if at nineteen my parents would actually allow a trip of that magnitude. It would after all, be two teenagers, from a small, country town, driving half way across the country and back. And that's not even considering that my parents were extremely old fashioned and generally strict, which meant they would never let me go on this adventure, with this girl.
But after an entire afternoon of mapping our course and contacting hotels in which we would stay along the way, and then figuring out how much the trip would cost us and how long it would take, Daisy convinced my parents to let us go. It wasn't even hard; she presented the maps, all of the hotel information and then swore she would take care of me. My parents loved her and trusted her and after hearing her we were going to Arizona to see the Grand Canyon.
After eating dinner with my parents I walked her outside to her car and she hugged me, excited at our new opportunity and adventure and then whispered into my ear 'Thank you Will,' before driving home for the night. Six days later we had packed my car, hugged my parents goodbye and ventured out on our own. It was the morning of my nineteenth birthday.
Wednesday, January 2, 2008
Quiet, part 8
"Will. Hello. You probably think I'm ignoring your calls, but I'm just busy and I'm going through some stuff right now that I really don't want to worry you with. You have so much going on and I'm still worried about you and your weight. Will promise me that you are eating? I'm sorry if that's too blunt, I just worry. And about the birthday party, I wasn't mad at you and I'm sorry I left without saying anything. It's just that I really wanted to spend that night with you, alone. It would have been just nice and quiet, which is what you and I had on Sunday night, I just had a horrible day on Saturday. There was an argument with my dad and I should have told you, but it was bad Will. Really bad. I just wanted to see you, that's all. And Chris and Matt were there and things didn't end well with Matt and now Chris hates me since those two are best friends, but I loved the Sarah McLachlan CD you got me and it was fun seeing your parents before we left. Will. I'm going to be really busy the next few weeks, so maybe it'd be best if we just waited to visit when the semester is over? I'll be home all of May and half of June and all of July. I just don't know how to explain everything and it just makes more sense to not try and add anything else to my plate right now? But I love you though and I miss you. Daisy."
After the weekend of the formal Daisy and I had the opportunity to visit a few times, culminating with her birthday in early April. I had prepared for the day with a vigor I hadn't had in all of my life, there were reservations made, flowers ordered, clothes dry cleaned, it was going to be perfect and I was going to pull it off as though I hadn't tried that hard; we just wanted a very mellow night with good food, good conversation, and hopefully a good ending. But before we could have our date, her best friend from home, Ally, whom I don't like very much, called and told me that she had planned a surprise party that I was originally not invited to, but since I was already going to be picking up Daisy that I should just detour to the party and go that route with my own plans, since there were going to be a dozen or so people waiting to surprise her.
So what to do when you're stuck between a rock and a hard place? I folded. Internally I'm very weak and with Ally swearing to me that she had this party planned for months, and had people coming in from out of town, I couldn't be selfish. I carried Daisy to the party that night, in which she got pissed off, cried a little, and then left without ever saying goodbye (or thank you for that matter) to anyone.
I, the first to notice that she had left, quietly found my car, drove to her dad's apartment and found her crying in the stairwell, shaking in the early spring breeze. We didn't say much; I had wanted to ask her how she made it home as the walk would have taken her all night, but I didn't. I just sat beside her and waited until she stopped crying, then she asked if we could actually go and eat and do what we had originally planned the next time. I told her sure and hugged her and then watched her walk inside and shut the door.
"Daisy. Hi. I am sorry about your birthday, honestly, when Ally called and told me about the party, I wasn’t sure what to do? I'm so glad you still went with me on Sunday. It was fun; hopefully it was fun for you? I'm sorry about your dad and the argument. I wish I could help, really. I understand about being busy, trust me. I don’t know how I'm going to survive this last month of school and track, let alone packing for home and such. I'll be there though the second week of May, if you need someone to talk to or something. You know Daisy, you can always call me if you need someone to talk to, I swear I won't judge and I don't even have to speak if you just want to vent and then hang up. Be okay. Will. P.S. I think I have fallen for you.
It was three in the morning when I sent the email. I couldn't stop thinking about her and suddenly, after her email, I was wondering if maybe it was me that was causing her stress or maybe it was I that had done something wrong? She responded to my email a few hours later. It was the last I heard from her until May when I got home from school.
"Will. Hello. Another sleepless night for us both? Do we only sleep well when we're together? Thanks for your email; you're the sweetest boy I know. But Will you don't want to fall for me, trust me when I say that. I hope you like these lyrics. I will try and see you on May 12th? Love. Daisy"
Sarah McLachlan -- I Love You
I have a smile
stretched from ear to ear
to see you walking down the road
I stare for a while
the world around disappears just you and me
on this island of hope
a breath between us could be mileslet me surround you
my sea to your shore
let me be the calm you seekoh and every time I'm close to you
there's too much I can't say
and you just walk awayand I forgot
to tell you
I love youand the night's
too long
and cold here
without you I grieve in my condition
for I cannot find the strength to say I need you so
oh and every time I'm close to you
there's too much I can't say
and you just walk awayand I forgot
to tell you
I love youand the night's
too long
and cold here
without you
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