Mare Moody - [blank]

I push my hand out, grab my doorknob and open the door with vigor. I am strength. Remember. Breathe. Remember.

I walk through the hallway. If I don’t walk with purpose, I don’t walk at all. I stop in front of Tabitha’s door.

Tabitha sits on her bed. Margaret is sitting between her legs. They are reading a book together. It is so candid and sweet that I don’t want to interrupt it.

“I’m not sure when I’ll be back…” I say, “Probably tonight.”

She nods her head. Her grin comes back to her face. Her eyes lock with mine. I know exactly what she is thinking.

I walk into the loft, down the stairs and onto the street. I try to remember through my drunken memory what address Noah gave the driver. I hope that just describing the building is enough.

I step into a taxi and begin.

“So the building is kind of like yellowish brick. It’s a really tall apartment complex sorta near the Prudential but not quite close enough… I don’t know, I can see it through one of the windows… I’m sorry…”

“Yeah, I got it. Copley Square.”

I breathe a sigh of relief. Instead of professing his love in the note, he could’ve left an address.

The taxi attempt to speed off but the moment we pick up speed, he comes to a halt. The midday rush hour clogs the tiny streets of Boston. I slouch in my seat. I don’t even want to think about the fare I’m racking up. I look at the door. The symmetry of the locks is calming to my eyes.

Humans are trained to glue to symmetry. Is this intended so that we hate the people whose faces aren’t exactly right or is it just a sick joke made by God to watch us run like chickens with our heads cut off, attempting to find beauty that is nearly impossible to find naturally. The stopping and going of the traffic gets on my nerves. I look up at the driver.

“How do I get there?” I ask.

“To the building?” He asks, he looks at me in the rear view mirror confused, “You go down 4 block, take a left and then 5 blocks down, it’s on your left, why?”

I look at the fare meter and hand the money to the driver.

“Here,” I say rushed, “thanks so much, have a good day!”

I jump out of the cab and into the summer breeze. I run out of the street but once I get to the sidewalk, I don’t want to stop. I continue running. My feet push off of the sidewalk, for milliseconds at a time, I am flying.

The sun shines down on my face, I feel its rays. For once, I prefer the light to the darkness. The sun burns bright and fills my soul with hope.

I smile. I take a deep breath and when the breeze hits my lungs, I am propelled farther and farther. I can feel life grow intense but in the most exciting way. The sky seems to continue forever. The light glares down on the pavement in front of me. I chase the rays. ‘Follow me’ they tell me. I know if I follow, I will be okay.

The world passes by. 4 blocks zip by. I am free. I push my arms out and feel the breeze push on my body. All I see is light.

I turn to the left and run across the street. My chest starts to feel heavy but I continue on. My body has betrayed me for too long. I am in charge.

Time grows faster and faster as my legs go faster and faster. I can only feel the sun on my neck and the sky on my face. My heart begins to beat happiness. I haven’t felt this way is so long.

Then I see it out of the corner of my eye. The large building casts a long shadow onto the street. My smile grows wider. Noah. I think about my night with him. With no reminisce of Kane, my thoughts begin to pulse with Noah’s name.

I slow down and look at the building. The hope still lingers. I walk up the doors and the doorman opens them for me. I walk in with purpose. The elevator stands in view but I turn and look towards the stairs. I don’t need memories to buzz around my brain. I open the door to the stairs and start on my journey. The 3rd floor is my destination.

I leap up the steps. The energy pours out of my eyes and ears. I am overflowing. I am becoming. Level after level meet my eager feet and I pushed into the future. The deep, unwritten, blank future.

The door has a large 3 printed on it in bold writing. I walk towards it, I know it is my friend. The ethereal beauty that lays in my fate makes itself known.

I walk through it and retrace my steps from our night together. My feet are the platforms on which my life takes me. Thank you.

I see his door from across the hallway. It glues in my vision and begs to be seen. My conscience pulls me back to my memories. The gentle kisses. Eat. The laughs through the night. Eat. Those deep blue eyes. Eat. Eat. Eat.

It is not about the amount of time you have spent with someone; it is about the quality of the time you have spent together.

I knock on his door. I have no fears. He answers and suddenly we stand facing each other. We are the audience to the others stage. Our hearts beat in sync though we just saw the other's face again. The heaviness of the decision I just made sets in. Why did I do this?

“Hi,” I say, I just realized how out of breath I am.

“Hi.” A smile comes across his face. I don’t think he expected me to come back.

He opens the door all the way and lets me in. I walk in and stand in his living room. His living room is a lazy layout of white couches and tan arm chairs. Of course, all of the furniture is facing a large television. Now that I am here, I’m not sure what to do. I look at him with anticipating eyes.

“Please, sit down.” He gestures to the sleek white couches; they lay in perfect symmetry to the wall.

I sit down in the one facing the window. I can’t see anything through it but the building in front of his apartment. The sun beats down on the building and it reflects the sunlight into Noah’s living room.

He sits down across from me in one of the ugly tan arm chairs. He looks at me fondly. It calms my spirit.

“So, can you explain it to me?” He asks, he is unsure if this is the right question to ask but continues with it regardless.

Nobody has asked me this before. At first I am taken aback but his desire to know pushes me to find an explanation. Then an idea comes over me.

I stand up and turn on his TV across the room. I flip the channel to the news and turn the volume all the way up. The news anchor starts having a debate with another and they start yelling. The yelling echoes through the apartment building. I look back at Noah. He has his hands over his ears and his eyes are squinting. He is in obvious pain. I remain unphased. I look at him.

He begins to understand. His face of pain starts to melt into a sympathetic look. I don’t search for pity; I search for comprehension.

He grabs the TV remote and hits the power button fervently. He walks to me and pulls me into his arms. He locks me into a warm and fulfilling hug. I feel understood. Suddenly, it feels easier to control them.

Stop.

I hug him tighter. No. Not anymore. He pulls me out of the hug softly. He puts his hands on the sides of my face and pulls me in closer to him. He gently pushes his lips against mine. My stomach leaps and my feet go numb. All of the nerves in my face become increasingly more sensitive. He kisses more intently as my breath becomes even.

His hand moves to the back of my head and he holds me tenderly. I know that in his arms, everything is ok. He pulls away from the kiss and looks at me in the eyes.

“I’m so sorry for not understanding.”

I smile. Happiness creeps its way up my spine and nestles at the back of my neck. It softly coos in my ear. ‘Everything is good. Everything is fulfilled.’

“Do you want some wine?” He asks, “You could definitely use a drink.”

I laugh. He learns quickly.

He walks to the kitchen and pulls a bottle of wine off of his counter.