Everything is Blue: II

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I was stuck in my room, nothing but the light of my lamp that's over my bed to light up the clean piece of looseleaf paper in front of me that was attached to one of the many notebooks I owned. Well, almost clean. It had today's date and my name and a title at the top of the page. But for the first time ever, I'm stuck on where to start on an assignment. I had to write a paper on the poem "Signs and Times" but I keep having to read it over and over. I couldn't put words to paper because my mind was filled with questions and none of them concerned this assignment. They all concerned and pointed towards Valerie, which I know I shouldn't be thinking about to begin with. Periodically, throughout the years I would think of her but never long enough or intense enough to where I couldn't finish a school paper. But the thought of her was distracting me so much that I actually considered calling my roommate back to say, "Yes. I actually will go out drinking with you tonight."

But she was probably long gone, already drunk enough to not even think about how much she's going to regret tonight after she wakes up with a splitting headache. It was too late and now I'm stuck trying to figure out what this poem is about on a Sunday night all alone. I'd never been caught up about a girl this much. Of course, I've dated girls after her but they were never around long; not more than just a few weeks. And it wasn't as hard to let go of them as it was to watch Valerie walk out of my life. But I'm finally starting to feel like I'm finding myself, like I'm where I'm suppose to be. She chose the most worst time to come back into my life.

There wasn't a single part of me that didn't want to see her and catch up with her, though. And that's how I found myself pressing the 'call' button on the contact that I haven't brought up in a while. The dial tone sounded in my ear and I began to get nervous that she wouldn't pick up or wouldn't want to talk. I quickly reminded myself that she did say to call, but I still felt super anxious about hearing her voice. Her voice that was the same; familiar. But somehow different. Although everything seemed the same, something was slightly different.

"Hi Lou," her voice was raspy. And that could only mean two things.

"Did you just wake up?" I asked just as soon as I could comprehend her 'hello'.

"Yeah I kind of took a super long nap," I heard her bed creak underneath her. A sound that shook old memories awake in the back of my mind.

"Oh," I let out a sigh of relief. Her voice was only this raspy when she would just wake up, or-

"I'm over that, you know," she quickly defended and I was confused for just a second. She caught on because she explained only seconds later. "About a year after that summer I went away and got help. I guess you could call it a rehab, but my mom found out what I was taking and how much of it I was actually consuming."

"Oh," I said again. There was an awkward silence that I wanted very much to go away, but I couldn't think of anything to say but, "Congratulations." Then, "I'm glad you're better now." I want to punch myself in the face.

"Yeah me too," she stated, followed by more silence. And then, "Do you want to grab some coffee? Maybe sit in the back like we use too?"

"Coffee at 9:30pm?" I sort of laughed. I guess it would be beneficial since I would have to stay up late and finish this paper anyway. "Sure."

"Well, we could always get some tea I guess," she suggested. "But whatever is fine." She waited a second to say, "I'd much rather tea."

"I figured," I laughed. "I'll see you in 10."

***

Being out at 10pm on a school night when I have an assignment due the next morning isn't like me at all. But Valerie is Valerie. And here I am. I'm sat in the back where we use too, awaiting her arrival, twiddling my thumbs and biting on my bottom lip. I drove a few extra miles from campus to get here even though there's a closer coffee shop to where I'm staying. I knew this would be easier for her, so I made the drive. My heart was starting to skip beats like I remembered it did when I was younger, so I cursed myself for acting so childish. But when she walked through the door, slumping her jacket off, folding it over her arm, I suddenly forgot how to breath. Besides the end of summer when everything went downhill, her hair really never seemed to fade. She swished her little mermaid colored hair across her shoulder and started turning her head around the place to look for me. But she suddenly remembered which table we use to sit at, so her entire body turned towards me now, smiling and flashing her white teeth, the dimple on her left cheek sinking deep into her skin. The dim light above her from the ceiling of the coffee shop hit her and made her look like a shining star before me, strutting her way over to me with the confidence that she never seemed to falter.

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