Write one leaf describing the last time you used a calculator
The lunchroom is noisy as per usual. A mass of individual voices and clamor that melt together and sink into your ears without your knowledge. The brightest white noise imaginable.
Valedictorian of her senior class sits across from me, her posture is straight. Her hair is pulled up in a neat ponytail, the sleeves of her sweatshirt gathered around her forearms as she eats her lunch.
Next to her, our funny little friend. He’s hamming it up for the kids further down the table. The fluffy hair atop his head shakes as he laughs and pops another Handy Manny fruit snack into his mouth.
To my right, oh, to my right. A very good looking young man. I’m not paying much attention to him, but I know he’s there. His smooth, low voice melts in my ears. The feel of it is appealing enough, without any acknowledgement of what he’s actually saying.
While the comedian’s attention is diverted, I pluck his graphing calculator from atop his pile of books. Pressing the alphabet lock, I quickly type a secret message and restore the “math muncher” (as he has so cleverly dubbed it)’s front cover. As I place the calculator back on his books, the good looking one (with steamy eyes as dark as coffee) nods to me in approval. We exchange a glance, and resume conversation with our friends.
I wonder if you wonder the same things that I do. I wonder if you look at me sometimes and think, “this isn’t right, what we’re doing.” Maybe you dismiss that thought because it’s harmless, and it is. Isn’t it?
Harmless because nothing’s happened. Harmless because it doesn’t change anything. It’s just a different way of feeling. A way neither of us has learned to interpret.
It reminds me of the nights last spring I’d drive around, listening to songs about the way life was. It’s funny how things change so quickly, but you would swear you spent your whole life worrying about the things that never happen. Even funnier that the songs still fit, but for different reasons.
For whatever reason, I’m still feeling out of sorts.
“Love is like a tree: it grows by itself, roots itself deeply in our being, and continues to flourish over a heart in ruin. The inexplicable fact is that the blinder it is, the more tenacious it is. It is never stronger than when it is completely unreasonable.”—The Hunchback of Notre Dame (via apanda1992)