Saturday, November 01, 2003
My mind as a camera
Sometimes, there's so much beauty in the world I can't stand it. Sometimes so much happens that I can only remember it as a series of snapshots, taken one right after the other.
The first snapshot of the night was me sitting on the couch waiting for the resounding knock on our door while he was lying next to me, head on my shoulder like a lost puppy come home. My right arm was draped accross his chest and he was holding both of my hands. As much as this was like a scene from Evanston, it took place in Rochester, and that kind of sentiment is something that can never be erased.
The camera flashes again, and this time it's a bit later and a bit dancier. I had a chinese emperor in front of me and a leprechaun in back, grinding me on both sides. In everyone's hand is a bottle. I tilt my head back, smiling, laughing, and shout "I'm in a Josh sandwich!"
This time, there are a bunch of people in mine and Mona's room, and we're playing random booty music; the kind that if you play loud enough you can feel through the floor, so it doesn't actually matter what it sounds like. You only dance to the vibrations coming in through your feet. I notice I have no partner, so I shake my way over to a priest and pretend he is here to be my humping post. He smiles, pretends to look disturbed, and starts shouting "whoa, whoa, whoa....do you see this?" He shakes his cross at me. "We have a barrier." With the word barrier, he puts down the cross and shapes his own in the air in front of him. I smile, give him a wry look, and say "I can dress like an alterboy if you'd like..."
Jump to much later in the night, and most everyone has had all the alcohol intake they're going to inbibe. A confused Indian makes a playlist on my computer and joins everyone else sitting in a cirlce in the common room, some on other people's laps so everyone has a seat. A good song comes on (for the life of me I don't remember what it is) and everyone sings along. Again this may sound like an Evanston party, but alas, it isn't. I'm still smiling.
Last snapshot isn't as much a snapshot as a video. He has obviously had too much to drink and he knows it; but these are the only times that he lets me hold him the way I do. I have my arm around his shoulders and he has his head resting on the base of my neck. With my other hand, I hold his and he squeezes gently. As he apologizes for letting things get out of hand, he lets me gently kiss his face by his eyes and my lips taste salty. I whisper how things are going to be okay, and I tell him I love him. He says "yeah, I love me too." I smile because this is one of the few times I'll ever hear him say so.
All the details I can remember from the night are piled up into things I can barely remember - I know I joined a gang but I don't remember what its name is; I can remember her saying she loves me and is glad I'm here because she doesn't know what she'd do without me, and I remember saying I love her too and I can only hope she woke up this morning with that still in her mind.
4:48 PM
0 comments
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
|
|
