"I took a heavenly ride through our silence. I knew the moment had arrived for killing the past and coming back to life."
Another essay bites the dust. Now, I only have three more. The first for English; the other two, for History. I don't understand why each of these professors would give me only a week to write three essays... and at the exact same time, too... coincidence? I think not! This, my friends, is a conspiracy!
Now, I feel as though I can take a breather. I took a nap today, like I did yesterday, and I caught up on enlarging my collection of "Zs." I feel better; however, he wants to talk to me tonight... again. He just hasn't been letting me put my head down to rest. He has this plan: to get a job and save up money. He said, "I don't want to sound creepy, but anywhere you go, I want to follow you. If you go to Tallahassee, I will go to Tallahassee. If you leave the country, I'm coming with you." A little skeptical, I replied, "that's well and fine, but you need to take care of you first. I would be more than happy to take you with me." His overall reaction, pleased.
It is really tough, for I have his name saved in my phone as Kyle... that is not his name. After everything that has happened between his world and mine, there are specific reasons for this to have been done. Eventually, I will admit to my contact with him, but, as for now, I will remain visibly as a deaf mute: "no, I have not heard from him. He has not tried to contact me. I have not tried to contact him. I'm over it. Let's talk about something else."
Ugh. Stressful much?
Hell. You try being me. Only then you will understand. I just wish that he weren't so freakishly good-looking (that was a joke. there is more to him than that. If there weren't I would have washed my hands ages ago). That gets on my nerves...
I remember when I went to see him that Friday night, when he could barely speak, barely stand, barely lay down. I asked him if he remembers anything from that night. Anything at all. He told me that he remembers me holding his face up, trying to get his eyes to meet mine. He remembers me saying, "[Kyle, Kyle]! Look at me! Look up here at me, [Kyle]!" It saddens me that he can't remember any further because at that minute, I told him that I love him. At that instant, he bean to cry. He looked up at me; he could barely speak, but I understood the words that he was muttering: "I- - I can't believe... I can't believe you love me. I can't believe you love me." I told him that right then, he needed to start believing. I knew that he was in there. Barely, but when he tried to hug me, I couldn't stop myself from crying with him, for I could feel his love for me as well as the shame he had in himself.
The only words that he could really say were "yes," "no," "cigarette," and another phrase that I am sure he would not like me to repeat. Out of respect to him, I will exclude it. Upon lighting his cigarettes each time that he said "cigarette," I was shocked to see that he could hardly hold the twig between his fingers, let alone between his lips. He ended up singing his eyelashes. I was disappointed in him, and I think that he knew it.
At around 3:30 AM, he told me, "I think you should leave." It took a couple of tries for me to understand him, but when I finally did, I was offended. Not terribly so, however, because I knew it wasn't 100% he who was speaking. I had a long way to walk, and I had to be at work in only a few hours. So, I I left him. I didn't want to leave him alone, but I set out for, well... my second home.
All that I had on my person that night wan my ipod and a dead cell phone. The time was approaching 4 AM. From time to time, I would begin to run, for I felt as though it would speed up the process of getting to my destination. Unfortunately, my asthma wouldn't let me run for very long. While walking, I noticed a young man on a bicycle crossing the road. I paid him no mind and, like before, ran a ways, then stopped to walk. Moments later, I felt a presence behind me. I turned around. The young man on the bicycle begins a conversation, speaking quietly and using American Sign Language.
"I am looking for beer," he says. "Can you tell me where I can find beer?"
"I don't know," I replied to him, voicing as well as using American sign language. "I don't drink." I tried to hurry from him.
"I can hear." Says he. I realized that he had a Russian accent.
My first thoughts were, If this guy can hear, then why is he using American Sign Language? and If this guy is Russian, then why is he using American Sign Language? I was so confused. I proceeded to tell him about a liquor store that was further West than we were standing. I also informed him that I wasn't sure if it was open. I asked him what he was doing out so late. Trying to keep a walking pace on his bicycle, he wobbled left and right, occasionally bumping into my side.
"I just arrived from Russia. You know Russia? I just moved here and I am bored."
"Why don't you go home and go to sleep?" I asked.
"Why were you running?"
"I need to go home. I have to be at work in a few hours."He continued the conversation by apologizing for his accent. He then asked me where I live. I wouldn't tell him. I only told him part of the truth, that I was staying with a friend. I pressed on by telling him that I was in a hurry, and that the liquor store is just West of where we were. I continued to tell him, "go get your beer."
We came to an intersection, and it was time for me to begin heading North. We stopped at the intersection. At this point, I was just a little less uncomfortable with this Russian stranger. We talked about a small number of things, and finally, I asked him for his name. He stumbled upon his words, cautious that I am an American, afraid that I would not understand his birth-given name. He told me his name: Victor.
"What is your real name?" Asked I.
"Vitaliy." Responded he. I know the spelling only because he showed me his driver's license.
He told me that I am a very nice girl after I told him my name. I made sure to let him know again where the liquor store was because he was confused. He tried to play it as though it is because he is new to the area, but West is West no matter what country you are in, so I began to get a bit crabby. Again I told him that I needed to go home, and he needed to go get his beer. I turned Northj and he continued West, until a couple of moments later. He wasbehind me again.
"What are you doing?" I ask him, extending my arms to point westward. "Your beer is that way! Go get your beer!"
"I think you know why I came down this wat." Responds he.
"Why? To take the scenic route? There is no beer down here. Your beer is that way." Said I.
"Icame to ask you about a cell phone."
"About one?"
"Yes. You have cell phone, right?"
"Of course." Responded I. I could not lie about that in the year 2011. "My phone isn't working right now." I informed him, partially telling the truth.
He proceeded to tell me, as I continued to walk away from him, that he was interested in my cell phone number. Laying his bicycle in the middle of the reoad, he ran to my side, asking me to recite my number. I began with my accurate area code. I continued with the first three digits. Instantly, he pulled a phone from his pocket and pressured me to enter my name and number as a contact. Aggreably, I entered a disconnected number. I informed him that my phone was not working at that time.
"It will be working tomorrow or the next day, yes?"
"I would think so." I responded, only trying to appease him. "Now, Vitaliy, go get your beer. I need to go home."
He left. I continued to walk, but after I saw no trace of him, I ran. Straight to a warm bed. The next morning, I went to work. Exhausted.
