Catching Feelings

Memorandum 15

Even if my lips twisted in pain and hurt- I could tell my thoughts were visible. Ira, you stood there with a distant, dull, and expressionless face.

It was inevitable. I impatiently played with the tips of my fingers on my thumb. It was obscure because I would see them touch, yet I couldn't feel the pressure. Each time, I would pressure them harder and tighter until my fingertips turned pale white.

Somewhere along the line, I'm sure I just wanted to feel physical pain to distract myself from my unstable emotions.

You abruptly stood and zipped up your leather jacket. "I'll be back." 

I could hear your hurried footsteps off in the distance as you headed toward the door.

I was alone with my thoughts. Thoughts may seem harmless like a butterfly nearby bushes but it was then that I wanted to curl up into a ball. I wanted to hide from my deadly and catastrophic thoughts. So many of them were swirling in my head -they were my insecurities.

I began to worry if you were going to come back. If so when? In an hour or two? Late at night?Where could you have gone? Would you be at a bar? Would you get drunk?

Defiantly, I walked out, slammed and locked the door. Chasing you down was my priority.

My eyes darted in every direction because I was specifically searching for a lanky figure in a leather jacket. 

My vision began to blur. It wasn't because of my glazed eyes nor were they because of the rolled tears on my cheek. My hand touched my circle-rimmed glasses as wet moisture touched my skin. I looked up towards the dark and heavy clouds as my glasses began to collect water droplets. 

Flashes of light ripped through the clouds and the ground began to shake as the rolling thunder roared.

Cars were speeding through the streets and splashing water towards the sidewalk where pedestrians walked. 

Thinking about it now, I think I came to the conclusion that you may have gone to a bar because no one likes to be reminded of their past lover. It is like bringing up a bittersweet memory. A memory that you can't turn back to.

From a distance, there were bright neon lights in an image of a beer bottle. The walls were made of faded red bricks. Despite the buildings deceiving looks, the bar was crowded with people shouting and laughing hysterically. 

The instant I opened the door, a large cloud of smoke engulfed me. 

With no luck, I left. 

I began to question myself. I wondered why I didn't just stay and waited for you in the first place?

Then I wondered, would you have gone to a flower shop? Would you be looking at roses and remember her? Or would you be looking at dandelions and recall the first touch?

Sighing in defeat, I returned home. When I opened the door, you were sitting on the couch waiting for me. 

"Where were you?" You asked.

"Somewhere," I answered vaguely. 

Regretting my response, I clarified, "I went out looking for you."

Ira, it was really funny. You began to sniff the air with your nose like a dog. "Why do you smell like smoke?"

Biting the side of my cheek, I responded cheekily, "Because I'm smoking hot." My face began to warm up in embarrassment. 

"Pulling out the pun cards again." You paused and moved your arm behind your back. "Elsa, did you know you put the word dandy in dandylion?"

A bright yellow dandelion was in front of me. Mixed emotions were flowing within, and I didn't know how to respond. I liked puns, and you were going along with me now. It was nice and I truly wanted to smile as wide as I could- enough for it to break my face. But there was this heavy doubt in the back of my mind that you only gave me this dandelion because Rose had given you one once. 

Hesitantly, I grabbed it. "Th-thank you." I stammered. 

"You still don't look happy. Hmm... I was pretty confident that this would cheer you up. I guess I was wrong."

"N-no, it did." Looking down in shame, I said, " I wasn't sure if the dandelion was a gift for me or if you still had feelings for Rose."

In a sense, I thought you might have given my dandelion because of Rose. The only difference was that she had given it to you without much meaning behind it. I thought it was just another way of saying you don't see me as a candidate to date.  

"Well yes... in a way." Your dark eyes and dark circles were fixed on me. "Rose had given me a dandelion and she was my first love, so I figured I'd give you one and do the same to you."

I understood your point of view of the situation. But honestly, I felt like you were being nice to me because of what happened with Rose. I wanted you to see me as an individual-as Elsa. I didn't want to be treated like you had treated her before. I wasn't Rose, in the end. I was Elsa.