Today, I woke up like I always do. I ninja rolled out of bed and sprung up as if to touch the ceiling. Now, I use the term "ninja roll" loosely. Unless your definition of ninja rolling is flailing out of bed in a meek attempt at twisting your body as if to make it seem like your rolling, and then crashing to the ground.
I stumbled through the hallway, the office and into the kitchen.I opened the fridge. With grimy-feeling eyes, I stared into the open fridge. There was some vegan butter (gluten free!), orange juice, some leftovers in some old, clouded with age, containers, some milk, and random assortments of condiments and cheese. With a sigh, I opened the freezer. There were some frozen sausage patties+ biscuits. I was like, "Score!" And I ripped open a little individually wrapped packet of frozen goodness, wrapped the biscuit sandwich in a paper towel, and threw it into the microwave for 55 seconds.
I dozed off, only to be rudely awakened by the seemingly blaring microwave alarm. I get the biscuit, feeling the warmth exuding from beneath the towel, and placed it on a mini plate. I then proceeded to the living room, slumped onto the couch, turned on the T.V., watched 16 minutes of some typical Girl+Boy Fall in Love movie, finished the sandwich, threw the plate into the sink, and made my way back to my room.
Today was beginning to feel like a slow day, and with me realizing it, I decided to go for a walk. I get out of my pajamas and into some public-viewing clothes and walked out the door. I don't care much for doing my hair and makeup. It's not like I was meeting anyone, anyways. The smothering heat hit me instantly. With the conditioned house still dead behind me, I couldn't fully comprehend just how hot it was outside. So pushing forward, unaware of my impending heat-exhaustion doom, I left the front porch and started to walk down the street. (Facing away from the sun, mind you.) I found the sidewalk as I turn the street corner, and I was protected by the occasional shady trees.
I kept thinking about him. Everything reminded me of him. His words kept replaying over and over in my head. This is what I hate about being alone. It means I'm alone with my thought. And being alone with my thoughts usually lead to that sort of thinking. I hate it. I hate him. I hate that I can't get over him. I hate that he won't let me get over him. And her. I hate her. She tore us apart. The worse part is that I don't know who she is. He refused to tell me, which makes me think she didn't know about me either.
Anyways
When I had made it to the park, I saw that it was nearly abandoned which is weird for Sundays in my city. There were two kids, about my age, maybe older. They were with a tiny child maybe about 3-4. I assumed they were dating and that that child was theirs. I give a mental sigh and wonder what is wrong with society nowadays. I walk past them and sat down, cross-legged, at a picnic table, completely defaced with graffiti and phone numbers. I face the kids, so I could get a better look at them. The guy had medium length shaggy auburn hair. He had some freckles on his arm, I think. Which probably means he has some on his face too. And the girl, her hair was dyed to holy hell. I swear I could have counted 5 different colors. She was rather pale and wore boyish clothes. Both the guy and girl looked like the most awkward couple I had ever seen. The child's name was Evan or something with an E. He was a rowdy little toddler, always falling. But he was just laugh and get right back up and start running around. He made me smile a lot. The kiddie had the guy's auburn hair and the girl's pasty skin. They made a beautiful child, really.
I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket after sitting down, so I pull it out and see a text from him. It hasn't been long since the incident, so the hurt was definitely still there. After seeing his name pop up on my screen, my heart skipped a beat and suddenly it hurt to breathe. I opened the message and it said: Hey, how are you doing
I let out a uncontrollable gasp, the rainbow haired girl noticed this and looked my way. We made eye contact, and I gotta say, she had some of the prettiest brown eyes, ever. She smiled at me, and I realized how incredible weird I was being. I blushed and looked back down at my phone. My fingers were laying over the keys. I didn't know how to respond. Be honest and seem pathetic? Or be indifferent, showing him that what happened didn't affect me.
I type: I am just fine, thanks. you?
My thumb hesitated over the send button. I looked back up and I saw that the little tyke was running up towards my table. He, of course, tripped and went stomach first into the bench. I dropped my phone and rush out of my sitting position and to the other side of the table, but the kid's young dad was already there. He was pulling the kid up off the ground by his hands and the kid was just smiling at him. His big, slobbery, smile. Then the guy looked at me and said, "Hah, ridiculous kid, ya know?" and he walked off.
I go back to pick up my phone. I saw that an hour had already passed. It was kinda mind-blowing. So I exit out of the message, denying the option to put it in drafts. And I walked home. I never did text him back. It feels pretty nice.
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"Dammit Spock, I'm a doctor not a physicist!"
