use somebody

(Disclaimer: another installment of five minute free-form babble.)

*

The feelings should not have been the same, but they were.

Warm September, end of the evening, he tried to plan it out just right. It was so late, all the trains had stopped running. I’ll never be that naive since then, because I’ll never be that girl again. When I think back on it- how could he have resisted anyway? I held onto every last word he spoke as if it was dripping with the secrets of the universe.

A cab was pulling up, and he was sure he had flagged it. So he made his move, and then tried to jump into the cab. Except that this was Boston. So the taxi went on its way, and he sheepishly said goodnight, a bit disappointed. He always wanted to construct movie scenes, it seemed.

But it didn’t matter- I remember listening to my heart racing that night, the breathlessness, the everything that was that moment and how it overwhelmed me.

Foggy November. Get off the BART, always in my own head. But I was always fond of the chilly walk. In the classroom that night, we had a big exam. This is the class, this was the spark. I knew what I wanted, but this class made me remember that there is what you want and then there is what wants you, what swallows you whole. There are goals and then there is the heartbeat underneath, the pulse that pounds when you have found your rhythm in something outside yourself.

It was not necessarily because of wondrous teaching skills, though his teaching skills were quite good. But it didn’t matter. It never has. It has never mattered to me in that regard- if you were there, if you bore witness, you get full credit. I’d rather believe everyone was instrumental than leave it to random, blind chance.

So when the instructor said what he said, I might as well have been a teenager all over again. An innocent little playful comment. I didn’t really even deserve it, and don’t worry, my head only swelled for a second.

But oh, the feeling was so much the same. The fluttering, the breathlessness, the excitement, the promise of things to come, all so familiar. There are all kinds of mutations of love and lust and crushes in this world. And sometimes, for all their different incarnations, what is underneath is exactly the same.