Dedicated to all of you lovely readers! Thanks for having faith in me!
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I fidgeted as I sat by my desk. Dark dreary afternoon. My face faintly reflecting in in the window as I looked up. The sky was dark and filled with swelling clouds. The daylight quickly fleeing, the days shorter and shorter. There had been the smell of snow in the air again when I had walked home from school some hours ago. It surely was cold enough for it. My ears still red, prickling from the wind. But even now halfway through December the ground was still stubbornly moist and dark. The trees left shivering and bare. Depressing. I'd even joined in when Allen lamented the lack of 'proper winter' yesterday. I tapped my pen against the notepad lying on my desk, feeling unfocused. And as usual nowadays when I felt unfocused, I thought of Allen. Or maybe it was thinking of him that made me unfocused. Wasn't sure of what came first.
Today marked ten days until Christmas Eve, ten days since I'd sat down next to him in his library hideout feeling like maybe it was going to be ok. Or more like even if I wasn't 100% ok all of the time it was still, well ok. I cringed, thinking about myself cuddled up in the bed feverish and sweaty, brimming with tears. Ugh. Me like 10% ok. Not my lowest, but still, pretty fucking low. Allen seeing that had strangely made it easier not to worry so much. Because people knowing had been a part of it. Epiphany. I hadn't really known that. How fucking scared I had been of people knowing. How much it had held me back. Like it would be the end of the world if someone knew. Turn out it hadn't. Maybe it did help. Maybe my therapist had been right. Maybe I should send her a Christmas card. So yeah, I would never be William Bradford. Telling jokes surrounded by laughing friends. But still. Not a total recluse now.
I snorted, drew tiny circles and dots in the notepad margin. My thoughts circling in on Allen again. Inevitably. After I'd told him it was like we'd grown closer. Maybe too close; I wasn't sure. The other weekend at Kat's birthday party. We'd gone there earlier with Trish and Mel and Leo. Sitting crammed up on the bed watching Kat completely un-bashfully trying on different dresses while Trish and the rest did the same with earrings and colorful makeup. Hair becoming braided and unbraided. Allen had brought his polaroid camera, and the girls kept posing like super models and snapping pictures of each other in various stages of undress, with or without neon lip gloss and dangling hoops.
"Didn't you tell me it's kinda expensive? The film?" I'd asked Allen quietly.
"Like 2 dollars each," He had shrugged, easily smiling at my raised eyebrows. "It's her birthday."
I'd hummed, shifting among Kat's unwrapped birthday presents and furry pillows. Just ending up sitting closer to Allen. My arm pressed against his. Again in that farmboyish plaid shirt. Like it was his idea of fancy dressing. So genuinely Midwestern somehow.
"We're going to Minnesota sometime?" I asked seemingly right out of the blue. I had come to like asking Allen questions like that. He never seemed to mind, but then, he was pretty good at doing the same thing himself.
Allen laughed. "You'd like to?" He'd asked, looking at me almost challenging. Like it was so unlikely for me to want to. I had just simply nodded, not letting go of his gaze. His face shifting, suddenly thoughtful. His eyes almost too intense as they met mine.
"I really hope so," he had added lowly. Too low for anyone else to hear. His warm hand curling around my elbow. Out of sight for the others. Too close for comfort for me. But I hadn't pulled away. And wasn't sure if I'd been grateful when Trish crashed onto my lap a second later. The camera already in her hand she ordered us to smile.
I hadn't gotten drunk or done stupid things that night. Instead I'd spent the reminder of the party trying to ignore the part of my mind that wanted to replay the feeling of Allen's hand curling around my arm over and over. All while being hyper aware of his presence. Like a tiny moon in orbit around a burning planet. Or maybe it was the other way around. Him orbiting, while laughing with Trish or helping Kat with the camera. Whatever. The whole night he was never more than an arms-length away. And I really didn't want him any further than that. Even if we didn't really do anything besides listening to Leo telling a joke and laughing together. Catching each other's eye from across the room. Then Allen had stayed behind and helped clear away the traces of birthday celebration with me and Trish and Mel. Kat snoring on the couch. I'd stacked glasses and thrown away paper plates with this crazy lovely feeling of lightness bubbling inside. Just so fucking happy with my life and my friends. So fucking happy to sit next to him on the ride home and just feel. I smiled at the memory, drawing lines, rays of light around the circles. Tiny suns in charcoal gray.
It was almost like we'd become this tiny unofficial group within the group. Me , Allen and Trisha. I had hardly spoken to Ade for days. Half the time I was with Allen, I told him I was with Lis, the other half Trish. I sometimes wondered if Allen did the same. He still sat with the Bradford's at lunch though. Still went to the prayer circle and their little outings and whatnot. Because without discussing it, we both seemed to want to keep this to ourselves. Whatever we actually were. Not because it was a secret or whatever. Just because it was easier. Safer.
I sighed at the notebook, tapping my pen again. Yep, so unfocused. And maybe it wasn't the cause, but thinking about Allen surely didn't help. And now I wouldn't see him 'til tomorrow. Like a moon slipping out of orbit. I'd reluctantly asked him if he was coming to the choir's Christmas concert, a tiny bit stunned when he'd declined, saying he had too much home work. Like the Bradford's always went to the concerts. Wasn't that like the part of the deal of being a Bradford? But I hadn't bothered inquiring further. Maybe because me and Lis was the other thing we never talked about. No discussion, just another silent agreement. But I with that I wasn't sure what I'd agreed to or why. I tapped my pen again, looking up as I caught something moving outside my window. All but rubbed my eyes seeing big feathery flakes singling down. Snow. It was actually finally snowing. Perfect. All English assignment angst quickly forgotten, I dropped the pen once and for all and dug out my phone from my bag. Seemed like fate that A was the first letter in the alphabet, that Allen was if not the first, then at least just the second name in my contacts.
"Hey Mnesoda," I blurted out as soon as he picked up. "It's snowing."
"It is?" Allen asked for an answer. "Real snow, not just frozen prickly rain that pretends to be snow?"
I laughed. "Pretty sure I know what real snow looks like."
"Finally," Allen breathed a sigh of relief, "thought it never happen."
A strange clattering sound behind him. "You home?"
"No, I'm still at school with Trish. In the dark room." I could hear Trish trying out this ominous evil laughter in the background. Not her strong side.
"Can I come by?" I asked on impulse, suddenly eager to leave my sanctuary and the still empty-of-words notepad. "I mean I have to be there soon anyways..."
"Sure do." Allen replied instantly in his usual bright way.
It felt great leaving the house. Getting out. Away. I turned my face towards the gray sky. Imagined snowflakes hooking into one another high up in the atmosphere. Falling like parachute formations onto my face. Melting as they landed on my skin. Covering the track and roots and dead flowers around my in quickly deteriorating lace. I let the parachutes fall into my cupped hands. Wishing I could put them in my pockets, like the stars in the song, and bring some proper winter to Allen in the dark room. Stupid thought. I shoved my damp mitten-clad hands into my pockets instead and continued forward the whiter-by-the-second track.
There was still people around when I arrived. The hallway not entirely quiet. Some lingering from team practice or ambitious study groups. And a cluster of choir girls I didn't even know by name by the entrance to the auditorium. I recognized them by their outfits. Identical white blouses and dark purple skirts. A red ribbon swinging from a ponytail. Chatting and whispering in excited voices. About the night's performance no doubt. Their laughter like silver bells. All rosy cheeks and shining eyes. Like carol singers from a vintage Christmas card.
I passed them hurriedly before continuing down the stairs to the basement floor. Not a soul in sight. The dank smell of damp concrete. The fluorescent lights flickering over the scuffed orange walls, probably not repainted since the 70's. Stacked chairs and tables along the corridor casting dark shadows. Like a scene from a horror movie. I shivered, quickening my steps. Who knew otherwise. Might get attacked and killed before I even managed to reach the dark room.
I pulled the heavy steel gray door open, entering a hallway off sorts. Obediently turned off the light before opening the inner door. The main light source well inside was a special dark red bulb, the room more glowing than anything else. Trish and Allen only shadows to my eyes at first. Well, they didn't call it dark room for nothing. Trish could apparently see me well and clear though, skipping up to great me.
"Mattie!"
"Hey," I hugged her tightly, even though I'd seen her only a couple of hours ago. Nodded silently to Allen as he looked up at me. Like I was back to being awkward and shy like when we first met, but not quite. Sometimes it was so easy to be around him, sometimes it felt safer just thinking about him. From a distance. But it was too late for that now. I smiled a fucking weird shy smile and followed Trish to her bench. Like I'd come to see her not him. The tiny room smelled like chemicals, sharp in my lungs at first, but after a couple of breaths I got used to it. There was a regular lamp as well, though it's light was dulled by a sheet of paper. Two benches with sinks and shallow trays. Lines with freshly developed photographs hanging in soft curves from the ceiling and on the walls. Alongside finely printed instructions and safety-guides. Hadn't known photography could be such a health hazard. But then I was mostly familiar with the kind that blinked readily on the camera screen the minute it was taken.
Willingly admired her shots of Kat as she rinsed them by one of the shallow sinks. Kat's shoulders and cropped hair against a backdrop of dark trees. Feet in delicate shoes treading through bright fall leaves. Kat trying too hard to look soulful with an old book in her lap. It was all very artistic though and Trish seemed pleased. Unaware of how unfocused I still were. Too aware of Allen working behind me only an arms-length away. Like a warm buzzing against my back. Hyper-vigilant. Like all my sense was heightened in his presence. Even though the pinch was more like a prickling. Maybe I'd gotten used to it. Couldn't punctuate the feeling of lightness. The feeling of being pulled in by his gravity. Like I was the planet in orbit, and he the sun. And I knew I would surrender to it. Didn't that happen to the moons and the planets in the end? They became engulfed. Burned. It was inevitable.
It wasn't like I didn't know. I was an orbiter. Had always been. Whether it was around my mom or dad or Ryan or Adam or Trisha. Ii was like I lacked my own gravity. Always feeling the pull of others. Right now. Especially Allen. Maybe it was the novelty factor. And I hated to admit it, but Lisa didn't have that influence over me. The pull. So often I spent time with her, while my thoughts circled in space. Around someone or something else. And maybe that was true for her as well. Circling around Claire. A couple of moons the two of us. No light of our own.
I shook the thought of Lis from my head, and nodded another approval to one of Trish pictures. But the pull was getting too strong. I couldn't focus, Kat's face and the flowers she held, Trish talk, the instructions on the wall, all blurring together in my mind. I gave in, wordlessly leaving Trish side and crossing the room to join Allen by the opposite sink instead. His hair strangely dark in the dim red light. He looked up as I approached, smiled a little knowing smile. Nodded to the sink. "You recognize it?" I nodded. The shore of Hayworth Beach spreading out on the photo bathing in front of me. Another shared secret. I weighed on my heels, standing silently next to Allen as he moved the would-be photographs from tray to tray. Feeling strangely calm. Letting myself get lost looking at his hands working , his pale neck, the way he squinted and pressed his lips together when the picture came out blurry. I pressed my knuckles into his side in a strangely encouraging gesture. Watched him swallow, his mouth curl. Don't push me away. And he didn't. Just brushed his hand over mine without his eyes even leaving the submerged photograph. A flame flickering across my fingers. The pinch flickering inside. Because it was us, and because it was ok. Or was it? I quickly showed my hands into the pockets of my hoodie. Wasn't sure if I wanted it to be ok. But I was sure I didn't want it to be un-okay.
Suddenly Trish was wedging in between us.
"Well I'm done!" She announced, peeking into Allen's trays. "You still have some left?"
"Yeah," Allen answered, "I really need to get it done today too, you know?"
"Course," Trish replied easily, looking between me and Allen curiously. I avoided her gaze. I really didn't want her to read my face. Not right now. Trish hummed, bumping her shoulder against Allen's elbow.
"Are you stealing my best friend away from me?"
"We're all friends, right?" Allen smiled, wrapping an arm around Trish for a second. A red hot jealousy flaring up inside as she leaning into him. Totally irrational. And it didn't even help when Trish pulled me into the hug as well. "Right?" she demanded.
"Yeah of course," I agreed. But it was hardly more than a mumble. Still feeling irrationally angry.
"Hah! Well, see you round, losers," she chirped. The door closed heavily behind her, and I turned back to Allen. The anger seeping away. There's nothing between them, I told myself unnecessarily. It was like I still needed to hear it. Allen lifted up another image and smiled at me, motioning to the trays. "You wanna try?"
I hesitated. Taking in the warnings and the numbered trays. The chemicals prickling my nose and maybe it was cancerous. Probably. I shrugged awkwardly. "Uhm, I don't wanna ruin anything..."
"You don't need to worry about that. I have the negatives, you can't ruin anything." More
Allen leaned his head, held out one of the giant tweezers. "C'mon." And I had yet to learn how to refuse him anything.
I ended up with him standing close close close behind me, keeping track of the time, guiding me with soft instructions. As I moved the paper around with some kind of giant tweezers. Trying to recall the names of the fluids filling the trays. Developer. Fixer. Stop and clear. And then suddenly one of the houses from the beach appeared, looking out over the dark sea. Sharp white light and gray shadows.
"It's like magic," I whispered stupidly. Like the situation called for some reverence.
"I know," Allen whispered back, the look on his face telling me he did feel that way. He carefully lifted the photo and went to rinse it before handing it back to me to be put into another tray. And then another.
The second picture there was me, although only as a walking dark silhouette, hood covering my head. The third was one of the pictures I'd taken, Allen against the shore-gray. Except it wasn't there, all the things I'd wanted to capture. I couldn't tell why I'd thought that even though all the other pictures were black and white, this one would come out in color. The image of him bright against the even-colored world around him only remained in my mind. The picture developing was different. Without his red hair Allen looked too pale, his face fragile and uncertain. The vast gray landscape seemed to command all the attention, and he blended into the background. Nothing like sun-bright human beside me. A colorless copy.
Allen hummed displeased, leaning his chin on my shoulder. "See, this is why I don't like having my picture taken."
"I still like it," I mumbled. It was a bit hard to speak when I felt like my heart was going to beat out of my chest. When I felt like the only part of my body able too feel was the spot where Allen's chin was resting. Burning. Even my face felt like it was on fire. Which made no sense, because I didn't fucking blush ever. My thoughts running wild, because why would he do that? Was it still ok? Because it was us? And what did it mean if it were? Allen's hand carefully wrapping around mine, lifting the photograph into the next tray. His chin still on my shoulder, his face close to mine and all these endless possibilities, these missing boundaries. I just couldn't. I needed boundaries because otherwise I would jump and fall. Crash and burn.
I defied my numb limbs. Managed to not so subtly duck away. Spun around to face the lines with pictures hanging from the low ceiling. Somewhat safer grounds. The collected works of the art class. Some of them would probably take part in the exhibition. Abstract shapes. Landscapes. No offence to Allen, but those were pretty boring to me. Too pale compared to the real thing. But there were faces too. And there suddenly was my own face. But not like I knew it from looking in the mirror in the morning. Or even from Trish nagged-into photo sessions. Maybe because I was smiling widely, caught mid-movement, the wind pulling in my hair. My face somehow wide-open to read, much like Allen's so often were. No traces of trouble to be seen for once. Like I had actually been caught mid-moment, and that moment had been a crystal-clear amazing one.
"You don't like it?" Allen asked turning to me, leaning against the bench.
I shrugged, pondering. "Dunno. It doesn't look like me, like I don't see myself that way."
"I do." Allen said simply. And even with the weird lightening, his eyes were still so fucking blue. If only because I knew they were. Like I knew his hands were warm and dry and that beneath the sharp air he smelled of spring leaves and spice and everything nice. I'd been circling him for so long and knew too much. My mind speeding up again. My stomach clenching and not in a sweet pinching way. Suddenly acutely aware of how alone we were. Of all the doors and concrete walls that separated us from the choir girls and their waiting audience and some teachers working late and a left over nerd sleeping soundly in the library. Like in horror movies when they realize they're at their old deserted high school at Halloween with some dude that might actually be the town killer. Just like that. That the situation was way too dangerous and they realized it way too late.
"I have to go now," I abruptly announced, much like a clueless would-be-victim. But Allen made no move to stop me. Instead he just nodded imperceptibly, turning back to the trays and the photos. "Yes you probably do." Looking at the back of his head, I couldn't read his face, but there was a slight sharpness in his voice, a tinge of bitterness almost. Very un-Allen-like. The pinch inside made me almost want to fall through the floor.
"Sure you don't want to come?" I asked. A desperate note in my voice. Allen just shook his head, uncharacteristically silent, for a second almost sullen. "No, I mean, I should finish up here, you know, and I'm sure there are no seats left so, there wouldn't be room for me anyways," He smiled super quickly over his shoulder. The light made it impossible to catch if it was a real smile or not. But whatever. It was still awkward. And it was probably my fault. I tried to ignore it, leaving with a 'see you tomorrow then' and a door closing behind me before I had time to hear him answering. My heart still racing, and I allowed myself to stop and breathe deeply outside the dark room. Like the empty basement corridor suddenly was the safe place to be.
There was a queue when I arrived at the auditorium, and I had to impatiently wait in line for one of the music teachers to tear a corner of the red ticket I'd collected from a table outside the cafeteria a couple of days ago. Stumbling down the awkwardly spaced steps I heard someone calling for me. Or at least calling my more than ordinary name. Eternally nice Will was waving at me a couple of rows further down.
"Matthew, over here," he smiled. Oh lordie.
"Hiya," he greeted as I folded down the outermost pale purple chair and sat down. "Lis told me to keep an eye out for you, since your family couldn't make it." I nodded, ignoring the sneer I felt coming. Because I was actually grateful to sit next to some half-way familiar people.
"So, you looking forward to the holidays?" Will asked. Duh, of course. Who wasn't?
"Yeah, it'll be nice," I said airily, and Will nodded, distracted by the movement of the curtains pulling open.
A line of choir girls walking on stage. Lining up in neat rows, on the steps in the center. Smiling faces on top of each other. Some other figures joining them as well. A girl sitting down beside a piano. A couple of guys on guitars and drums. No one I knew, but Ryan surely did. The guy behind the drums shook a tambourine, and the girls started up a modern arrangement of 'Jingle bells'. Lis was in the first row. With Claire. Of course. I recognized some of the others as well. Courtney who'd looked longingly after Allen that first outing. That hadn't really resulted in anything apparently. I felt myself scowling at her blond ponytail. Yeah, she was sort of cute but, so plain? Colorless? Boring? Like I had a much easier time seeing Allen with Trish or Kat Not that I thought about it much. And he didn't like any of them, so there was no reason to think about it either. I squirmed. Like I could still feel his chin against my shoulder. Or a tiny dent where it had been. Like maybe I wanted him that close once again. But I ignored the thought. There was no use. And not only were they useless thoughts, they were unsafe thoughts too. Not what I needed. I needed safety. I needed someone like Lis. Her hair shining in the stage lights. Her warm brown eyes a-light as she sang in perfect harmony with all the other girls in white shirts and red skirts beside her. Of course she had her own light. I would just have to pay more attention. Resist the pull of others. She was my girlfriend. And I really, really wanted her to be. I would just have to work a little harder. Work a little harder at not being so fucking distracted all the time. It was actually kinda disrespectful. I sat up straighter in my seat, focusing all my energy all my attention at the brown-haired girl in the first row.
The last song was sang solo by Claire. Ave Maria. And of course it wasn't really appropriate as a final number of a Christmas concert at a non-religious high school. And Claire might have been the choir's version of a queen b, with a capital b. But did anyone care? Clearly not. Because when she sang, it was like heaven on earth. Even a heathen like me couldn't deny it. My chest feeling a bit tight. I could literary hear people sniffing in the audience around me when she was done and they all came together on the stage to receive the applause. I felt Will glancing over.
"She's really amazing Claire, isn't she?" he asked.
"Yeah, that was great," I said, still feeling a bit tight-chested, and Will's face lit up like I'd just agreed to receive Jesus and get baptized on the spot. "Hey, if Lis hasn't told you, you should really come to my place New Year's Eve!" He said enthusiastically. "Like it'll be awesome, we'll all be there, and we have karaoke and food and Cynthie, you know Cynthie, soprano, she's a vegetarian too so, there's plenty to eat," he smiled his benevolent emperor smile. "You're more than welcome!" He patted my shoulder heartily. I curled my hands in my pockets not to poke his eye out. The Bradford's and their touchy-feely ways.
"Thanks," I said carefully, looking over to where I could see some white shirts and red-ribboned ponytails flickering by. "It sounds great," I forced myself to return his smile before leaving the row.
Lis parents had already tracked her down, standing beside the stage area. They'd already handed her a narrow bouquet of flowers. Great. Was I supposed to have brought flowers as well? Had other Bradford boyfriends done that? Or was it just the parents? I took a deep breath. Flowers or not. I would try harder.
I plastered a wide smile on my face. Imagined it much like the one on Allen's photograph.
"Mr Hargreaves, Mrs Hargreaves. Nice to see you again!" I all but exclaimed. Maybe trying too hard. Whatever. I stepped forward and kissed Lisa's check. Wrapped my arms around her tightly.
"You were amazing," I whispered in her ear. "Like couldn't stop looking at you." It almost felt like the truth.
She beamed up at me, her hand trailing down, small and cold. A vice-like grip around my fingers.
" Will you come back home with us?" She asked. I should probably go home and at least start the assignment I'd planned to have started even yesterday. But whatever. There was a relationship on the line here. I needed to pay attention and stop orbiting around the wrong people. Or at least people that confused the fuck outta me.
For once we didn't end up on her bed. Instead we sat downstairs with her parents. They had coffee and we had tea and Lis younger siblings had juice and regarded me wide-eyed and giggling like the twelve-or-so year olds they were. It all felt very grown-up. I zipped my hoodie up to my ears and my hair was so long now it covered most off my pierced ears and I answered her parents' kind questions nicely if not super-enthusiastically. Then we all ended up watching a Top 20 Funniest Home Videos Christmas special, laughing at jingle-belled cats riding skateboards and people skiing into pools. It was almost better sitting there, then lying on next to her on the bed, trying to keep my thoughts from circling away. More best boyfriend-like. More real than just being the two of us.
I ran most of the way home. My hair damp against my forehead, my lungs dry from the cold air. But it still felt good. Doing something. Letting my limbs do some work, not only my mind .Back in my room, I sank down beside my bed, leaned my head against the mattress. Tried to sink into the silence too. Feel my breathing calming down and me calming down with it. But my thoughts where still running a mile per hour. I got up and flopped down on the bed instead. Letting my thoughts run around however they wanted. They quickly halted next to Allen in the darkroom. The feeling of his hand brushing over mine. Or had I imagined it? The pinch inside made me fall onto my side and curl up. It sucked so bad sometimes. Not knowing what was really there.
My thoughts wandering slower now, to the Allen of the moment. He was probably sitting by his desk, with the English assignment. Leaning his head in his hand. Pulling curls around his finger. Was he thinking of me? Would things be weird between us now or was it all in my messy mind? Were we ok? My phone was in my hand before I could stop myself. Apparently, I really didn't want us to not be ok.
"Hey," he sounded surprised.
"You said I could anytime right? You changed your mind?"
"No never." The soft scratchy way he said it. The definite. The word itself definite. Never. I brushed my hand over the bed cover. Suddenly feeling so sure. Suddenly wanting him next to me so much I almost ached for it. Wanted him lying next to me, wanted to close my eyes and just feel him there. Close close close. I really didn't want to care if it was a useless or dangerous thought. Just wanted to act without thinking. What would happen if I didn't care about anything? Just thinking the thought felt like looking into the Grand Canyon. Like jumping off the edge of the earth falling through the universe. I let myself fall, stars swishing past my eyes. "Can't you come over?" I asked softly.
"Now?" Allen asked, still surprise in his voice.
"Yes."
Allen was silent for a second and my insides ached even worse with the uncertainty. Don't push me away, don't tell me it's wrong, don't ask me why. In my head like a mantra. Don't tell me I made the leap for nothing. That his hand on mine meant nothing. Even if I didn't know what it meant.
"It's just my parents are home and they'd wonder why I'd go out so late..." he finally said slowly, the words stretching out.
"You could tell them it's for an assignment or something," I suggested helpfully. Like the snake in paradise helpfully.
"I would, I would, " he said lowly, "but I don't want to lie to them."
"No, yeah, that's ok." I said lightly, my hand skimming over the covers again.
"Ok," Allen echoed on the other end and then there was silence. Except I could hear him smiling. And I hoped my own smile was wide enough to be heard over the static as well. Ok. We were ok.
"I should go back to the English assignment," Allen mumbled.
"I should maybe start with it," I joked.
Allen laughed shortly. "Yes, you should. I'll see you tomorrow, yeah?"
"Yeah." I all but murmured. I can't wait to see you. Hoped even the thought sort of translated trough the silence.
I gently put the phone on the covers. Smiled at myself. At nothing. At just being fucking happy and weird and feeling and everything being ok. More than anything I just wanted to bury my face in a pillow and just listen to all rushing thoughts and feel the pinch and happiness and not worry about anything. But I had stuff to do. I forced myself up from the bed, sat down by my desk again. Smiled and made a face at my reflection in the window. Drew another tiny gray sun in the margin.
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