She's beautiful and she won't stop laughing at my jokes. It's flattering, certainly, but the fact that I can think about what we're thinking about, yet she's completely incapacitated by a joke about a gynecologist means more to me than perhaps it should.
I won't look her in the eye. There's a bright edge there that feels like a lie. I've talked with brilliant people, and their eyes flash when they speak. Terribly brilliant people. Her eyes flash just the same as brilliance that sees the truths of humanity (such eyes that can divide and understand). Her eyes flash, but with no inner scalpel. The things she says are dull and predictable. The thoughts she has are old and tired. She brings nothing new to the table.
The sky is dark. It is so very dark.
The poor, old sky breaks open and rains on us.
She grabs my arm and we run (so fast, so very fast) through the rain to her favorite spot. We crowd under the hanging branches of a creeping vine. I can feel her breath blow hot against my neck (witless breath). I can feel how close she is, but we aren't touching. Our limbs are entwined, but they don't touch. We're standing so close, but I can't feel her heartbeat--I can't touch her. I whisper in her ear. She leans close, but we're already so close that she's blushing. There is no closer to get.
I'm only whispering "goodbye," but she treats it as if it means the end of our little beginning. We've only just met, but we've judged each other. She wants. I decline.
I leave.
We'll see each other again.
She'll say something cutting and bold and brilliant.
When nothing is on the line, she isn't afraid to be right.
When nothing is on the line, she isn't afraid to be right.
The sky is dark.
This is beautifully done. I like it.
ReplyDeleteI also hate it. Hmm, I wonder why.
Just checking: everything's okay with you, yes?
Yeah, I think I'll be fine.
ReplyDeleteI think.
Fine.
. . . "Freaked out, insecure, neurotic, and emotional"?
ReplyDeleteOkay.
This is oddly beautiful, as sad as it is. Still well written, though.
ReplyDeleteI get the feeling that people are the best when there isn't any pressure to be great.
ReplyDeleteAnd that's what happened to her.
And thank you.
ReplyDeleteYou're welcome.
ReplyDeleteHmm. The pressure to be great. (I almost capitalized the P in pressure.) I wonder if I've ever been my best, then, because I've always felt pressure to be great, to be excellent. Maybe that's my personality or my past, maybe it's something else entirely, but yeah.
But what if the pressure to be great does not result in nervousness, which might be the result of the not-so-best-ness?
If it doesn't result in nervousness . . . um. I have no idea.
DeleteWow, I realize now that what I wrote there does not make much sense.
DeleteUm, what I was trying to say is, "How can a person be his or her best if they are feeling the pressure to be great? Even though they don't want to be feeling that pressure? Even if the situation doesn't call for that pressure?"
That probably STILL doesn't make sense. *sigh*
Are you asking how people overcome the pressure?
ReplyDeleteI have nothing to offer to this except myself, and I think maybe, in this case, it might help?
When I was young, I always felt tremendous pressure to be the best at everything. My mom constantly reminded me to be mindful of what other people were thinking; she kept saying, "You have to be an example. You have to hold yourself to a higher standard." All those sorts of things. And then there were the, "You could be so great if only you _____" statements, and frankly, I have never once measured up.
And so then each time I failed, my parents and grandma and teachers were so disappointed, and I didn't want to disappoint anyone, and so I did my best to lower their standards for my behavior. It didn't work. They just all got more disappointed. So I tried again to do school and church and volunteer and everything else that anyone ever asked me to do, but that didn't work, either, because no matter how you looked at it, there was all this pressure that I could not overcome and still struggle with to this day.
Do you see what the problem is? People can never be great when they are looking at themselves. People who become heroes do so not because they felt pressure to do so because they knew love; they got wrapped up in something greater than themselves.
Take Sherlock or Samwise or Dr. Who or Katniss or Castle or Spock or Lancelot or Viola or Moses or Jesus Himself. They loved, and so they did the impossible.