Tuesday, April 5, 2011

A trip to their world


Leaving the house was a horrible experience.  We stood in the underground parking garage, with no overhead light, just the light from the outside peeking in, I’m not going to cry I said as tears welled up.  I held him tightly while he looked at me with that smiled.  That smile that said don’t cry silly, it’s only a week, and this is good, you’ll learn stuff.  That smile that held all the tenderness he couldn’t say.  When did I become so dependent upon him? I thought to myself.    I’m only going for a week.  It’s not the end of the world.  Don’t you remember doing things on your own?  Did you do things on your own?  I never wanted to have to rely on someone, yet I wanted someone to take care of me.  I guess this would and could happen, because they would want to do everything for me, and I would let them of course, but I would also still be the master of my destiny and taking control of what was being given to me.  I could quit you at anytime.  As I settled in behind the wheel, I was a mere block away from home and I had to call him to let him know about the rain.  I hung up and laughed to myself as I thought how crazy that call must seem.  To comfort myself and relax into my freedom, I turned on the radio, so I could sing out loud.  Freeway, finally, driving through city limits, debating on if I should stop for breakfast or not…me and the radio.   I had finally left L.A. Country, the freeway opened up and pressed a little more on the peddle.  It was until I had reached the openness of the coast that a heavy feeling came over me.  I had lost the L.A. radio station and pressed seek.  Ok, I listed to two DJs discuss how to name a baby and laughed along with them.  Their shift was over and so was my love for their station.  Seek.  Next station was country.  Great I thought, I could settle in for the last hour of the drive.  The next thing you know I am crying, no wait, bawling over the words in a song.  WTF?  I’m not talking just a few tears, I’m talking full on gasping for air, and sounds of pain eminating from me.  WTF?  This isn’t happening.  The song finally came to an end.  I wiped away the tears and sat in my perplexity of the crying.  The next song started and again with the tears.  I had had a conversation with myself earlier about my feelings of leaving for the week, so I thought I was ok, what are these tears for?  Traffic came to a slow crawling pace as I wondered what could have happened to warrant this.  Nothing of course, this is Southern California.  I tuned to a different station and sang out the loud for my amusement, just to see if the other car would look over.  The games I find to pass the time.  My concert was broken up by a phone call.  Yeah, it’s him.  I have resisted the urge until now to call him.  Thank goodness he took the first step.  I laughed and talked about traffic and tried not to be sad.  I wanted to share every moment of this drive with him, I wished I wasn’t alone on this adventure, but I knew I had to be.  Our conversation ended, my confidence through the roof, I arrived on campus and checked in.  Although I’m sure I stilled looked college-ish, with my red running pants and camo jacket, that or I was trying too hard to look cool, my purse and my hair made me feel like I was 50.  Someone stopped and asked me for directions, so I knew I fit in.  I walked to my suite and explored its sparcity.  Two chairs, a couch, a coffee table, a dining table with chairs, white metal cupboards framed the tiny sink and miniature fridge and microwave.  Four rooms on one side, three on mine, the bathroom, industrial with a HUGE shower, visions of college porn popped in my head the suite mates all crammed into the shower.  My room was a tiny box complete with loft bed, desk and armoire.  If I were to yell right now, it would echo.