October Air

You Don't Know Me at All

     I woke up late, even for a Saturday, and sat up in a drowsy haze. The previous day didn't even feel real, so much happened at once, like a dream half-awaken. Still all I could think about was that boy's eyes. I didn't know a thing about him but I had the image of his stained glass irises burning a hole through my thoughts, it was all I could focus on. Like a habit I didn't want to break. I was lazily stretching my arms when I remembered the note. The note.

     I squealed with delight and batted my eyelashes to myself. Do you honestly have a little school girl crush on a stranger? God, you're p a t h e t i c!  I pushed those thoughts aside as usual, I enjoyed having unknown company in that spot, it seemed, someone I could share a secret with. Though he'd probably already forgotten about me, maybe he'd never visit that crevice of the world again anyway. Oh well, it was worth a shot. I didn't even know what I was really expecting. I saw this kid once, and only once, and I expected a new best friend or something. Well, maybe now I needed one, since Lilliah was so set on returning to Santa Fe with a stranger. It still made my heart ache, I should probably apologize to her...

     Caught up in the moment, I did my hair and makeup, taking extra time to define my winged eyeliner, which was always my favorite. I put on skinny jeans and a hoodie, September was getting chilly, and left the house, skipping another meal. It was becoming an all too easy routine.

     I took my time walking through the woods on the way to my spot, enjoying nature and the smell of crisp September air. I was armed with my backpack, so if my parents saw I was gone, as well as my school supplies, they would guess I was out studying, and my iPod. Anyone that knew me, knew I put music before anything else, even my health. I didn't care, really. I was fascinated by instruments and cultures behind genres and everything in between. I just always liked to have notes swirling around my conscious.

     It took 12 big steps off the bare dirt path to get to my swing set, something I was so used to. I could probably find my way in the dark if I had to, I knew this place so well. Walk down the street, through the field, cross the barbed wire, step over the rocks covered by dirt, step over the v-parted tree, walk straight on the path, 12 steps through the grass and you're there.

    I sat on the old wooden seat, held by unfailing rope tied to the crooked branch of a well loved tree. I don't even know who built this swing, I only know that when I discovered the spot, the grass was overgrown like it hadn't been seen in at least a few years. I came there enough now though that it was used to my foot steps, same as always. This place was my home. I sat there, breathing out the mist of nostalgia, when I leaned my head against the rope. It smelled like firewood and cinnamon, my absolute favorite smell, but you never find them together if you weren't right there in that moment. Blinking up at the noon-light through the trees, a leaf drifted down toward me like a feather in the wind, and I looked back at a fresh divot left in the tree, with a new note saved by the same paperclip.

     I smiled to myself and looked around, like someone else was sharing my joy. I stood up and playfully walked to the note. It was scrawled on a paper much like line, with the paperclip tack holding it. The tip of the paperclip was bent into a rough heart shape, and I tore the note off of it.

Speak for yourself, you didn't say a word either, Blondie.

     I felt the heat in my heart rise to my face, and I was glad nobody was there to see it. Part of me cursed that silly boy, I was certainly not blonde, but there was nobody else he could've been speaking to. I couldn't wait to tell someone of my new discovery, but I had none to tell, so instead I took out my writing pad and scrawled right back, my 'blonde' hair twisting in my fingers.

*Song is You Don't Know Me by Ben Folds Featuring Regina Spektor