My Scratch Pad

:: complete and incomplete thoughts, daydreams and illusions ::

Don't Kill the Messenger

"Jason," I called, almost too enthusiastically. I had to remind myself that we weren't really friends.

"Hey," he greeted back, and it was obvious from his expression that he was trying to figure out who I was.

"You don't remember me," I stated. I didn't really feel bad. I couldn't blame him for not remembering me. We were never formally introduced. And the only reason I was talking to him anyway was because my friends weren't able to come, and his was the only familiar face I saw. And it's not even that familiar. Come to think of it, I'm not even sure if it's really him.

"Sure I do," he said. "I was just wondering what you were doing talking to me."

"Oh," I said, a bit surprised. I'm wondering myself, I thought.

"You're Andrew's girl," he said as-a-matter-of-factly, and I wished then that I'd prefered it if he didn't remember me at all.

I feigned a laugh. "I'm not," I said.

"Oh?" he looked surprised. "You broke up?"

I made a face. "No, because breaking up would mean that we were in a relationship, which we're not. I mean, we never were."

He raised an eyebrow. "Why not?"

I gave him a pointed look. Was I really going to tell something personal to some guy I wasn't even sure I knew the name of?

He shrugged. "It's just, you know, you looked so good together."

I furrowed my eyebrows. "So you just assumed that we were a couple because we looked good together?"

He shrugged again. "Everyone thought you were."

My eyes widened. "What?! Why?"

"Because," he said. "You looked good together. You know, you looked..." he paused to think. "Happy."

I cringed, and remembered exactly when it was that I first saw this guy, and why he would remember me and Andrew the way he did.

It was a convention, much like the one I was in now, but there were less people, and less events. I was sitting at a table with Andrew and we were laughing like anything when he walked past and asked Andrew about an art exhibit he was going to be in. He eventually sat at the table too and they talked more about art and other things. I just listened.

I was about to leave when Andrew caught my hand. It was the first time that we'd touched, and I guess, from what Jason was saying, it was obvious that there was something between us. We said goodbye and I left with one last wave. After a few steps, when I knew I was out of sight, I looked back at Andrew, and saw that he was still smiling...

I guess, if I were Jason, I'd have assumed that the two people I saw were involved, too. Because we did seem as if we were involved. We seemed as if we were made for each other. And we really were happy. Or, at least I was.

"I guess we were," I said, and then paused. I tried to keep a straight face. "'Were' being the operative word. We're hardly even friends now."

"Oh," he said, uneasily. "Well, what did you want to talk to me about?"

I looked at him. I was just going to ask if he knew when the activities were going to start. But suddenly, everything else seemed so trivial now. "Have you talked to Andrew, recently?"

He nodded. "Yeah, sure," he said. "He's fine. He couldn't come today because he had to do some work, he's been really busy lately. But he did tell me something about missing you."

I looked at him incredulously. "You're kidding, right?"

"No. Actually, the last time he saw me, he said," he stopped and put his hand in his pocket. He took it out and handed me a small box. "He said if I saw you today that I should give you that."

I raised an eyebrow. I looked at the box and opened it. Inside was a small paper rose. I didn't want to, but I smiled.

He chuckled. "Your name's in one of the petals," he pointed to one on the side of the rose. "There, Lisa."

I looked at it, and then started laughing. I put the rose back in the box and handed it back to him.

He looked puzzled. "What?" he asked.

I shook my head. "My name's Grace."

by: distantorigin at 03:41 | link | comments

CROSSING THE STREET

Although, it hasn’t always been like this. I distinctly remember a time that I didn’t use to care. About crossing the street, I mean. I was a kid. And aside from not having that many places to go to when you’re a kid, I was always with my mom or other older people who would automatically hold my hand, so I wouldn’t wander off or get left behind whenever I crossed the street. So if you think about it, it’s not really my fault that I can’t cross the street now that I’m supposed to be old enough to do so alone. Not entirely my fault, anyway.

It’s just that, the vehicles that go by are different every time. Different drivers, different climates, different road structures, different pedestrians… There’s never a pattern. I really think that even if you’ve been crossing streets your entire life, you still won’t be able to master it. There’s always a chance that you’ll get hit. And I don’t care how small it is, the mere existence of that chance makes me paranoid.

So I’ve come to the conclusion that crossing the street will never be an enjoyable experience for me. Ever.

What’s that they say? Never say…?

I found out a solution to my problem. Or maybe it’s not really a solution, but just something that disproves my first assumption, and makes me want to re-think my lists.

It wasn’t really that late, but it was late enough to make one of the busiest streets in the city really hard to cross. The sun had set. Of course, the recent storm that caused all the traffic lights to go haywire didn’t help. But there was no other way. It was cross the street, or walk 5 miles. I hated it. I wished there was a way to get out of it. I had been thinking of it the moment I left school, but all my mind came up with were my parents’ continuous warnings that I should never leave school late because the street that I would have to cross would be dark. I guess sometimes we really do have listen to our parents.

My vision isn’t that good, so I squinted. And then took a deep breath. I took one step forward.

“Hi!” I heard. And then I stopped. I turned to look.

“Hey!” I greeted, surprised to see him. He wasn’t supposed to be there after all. He lived on the opposite end of the world, and therefore would never have to cross any of the streets I did. I should know. I practically went klepto on the school records to see his address to find out why we’ve never ran into each other in the bus or the train or wherever. Okay, I totally did go klepto. But who’s telling the story here?

“Are you going to the other side?” he asked.

And I didn’t even mock him by asking what other reason I could probably have by standing at the pedestrian lane for so long. My sarcasm was rendered inactive. That’s how much I liked him. I just nodded.

He smiled. “Me too.”

I raised an eyebrow. No he wasn’t. Or, at least he shouldn’t. “Did you move?” I couldn’t help but ask.

He laughed.

I feigned a laugh. “It’s just that, I’ve never seen you cross this street before,” I said, and cringed at my own stupidity.

“Well, I like to change routes every so often. Keeps the stalkers confused,” he joked.

I feigned another laugh. And then nearly choked.

The people around us started crossing. So did we. And to not make my phobia of crossing the street obvious, I walked fast, ahead of everyone. I didn’t even hear the car approach. Maybe there was something wrong with all my senses. Except for one, that is. Because I most definitely felt his hand take mine to pull me closer to him. Okay, he pulled me away from the deadly Toyota, but like I said, who’s telling the story here?

“You have a death wish?” he asked chuckling, as I struggled to steady my feet.

“Well I’m glad you find this very entertaining,” I said, still not over the fact that we were now actually stopped, in the middle of the road. I was beginning to shake.

“Hey, take it easy. We’re just crossing the street,” he pointed out.

“And which part of that is supposed to be easy?” I said irritably.

He just laughed. He tightened his grip on my hand and led the way. I never felt more comfortable, crossing the street.

We got to the other side safely.

“The part where you’re with me,” he said smiling, and I was acutely aware that he still hadn’t let go of my hand.

Top 5 Things I Love to Do

5. Going on a long trip
4. Shopping
3. Discovering the best food combination in a restaurant menu
2. Going to bed feeling fresh and clean
1. Crossing the street.

 
END
10.01.06 13:45

by: distantorigin at 07:00 | link | comments (2)