Amy's Post
It's raining, cloudy and breezy outside, my favorite kind of day.
But Johnny isn't home, and being in the rain without him is worse than staying inside.
So I do. But I get bored quickly.
I head into the main room and go over to the TV.
Punch the on button and stare as an image of a newscast flickers across the screen.
More on Virginia Tech.
Not that it isn't important; it's just not what I want to be exposed to on a day like today.
On a perfect day like today.
I don't even bother to look at the DVD as I pull it off the top of the pile and slide it into the player.
What a shame.
The volume is down and for a moment I think I may have forgotten why.
Then I remember that we talked last night.
Before the sleep and the nightmares and the waking to the many aches and pains that seem to preoccupy my mind.
I don't remember exactly what we talked about and frankly I'm not in the mood too.
I skip the previews.
Hit play before the menu even has a chance to come up.
I like a surprise every now and then.
What a shame.
Images flicker to life and the first thing I'm faced with are his eyes.
Bright blue eyes that shimmer like they always have.
Like they always will in my memories.
I haven't heard his voice in a couple of weeks.
It's been longer since I've seen those eyes.
It occurs to me that I shouldn't care.
It occurs to me that I really don't.
It's just that he should've called, or I should've called him.
It's just that I don't think he cares anymore.
I watch one episode as the minutes tick by on the clock.
I laugh at his snide remarks.
Smile at his facial expressions.
I feel the way I felt before he ever knew my name.
Somehow that strikes me as wrong, but I know it's not.
Another episode passes and now I'm not laughing.
I'm studying the way he moves, and the way he watches people.
He watched me for a long time.
I think he's stopped now.
I catch on to one thing in particular.
And I begin to wonder if he did that to me.
I wonder why I never saw it before.
He never looks anyone in the eyes.
Unless he's got something important to say.
Something that he feels shouldn't be ignored; something that he thinks you should think about and consider carefully.
I realize that it doesn't matter if he ever looked at me that way.
He probably never will again anyway.
This realization doesn't faze me as Johnny sits down next to me on the couch.
Puts his arm around my shoulder and watches with me.
We laugh together.
We sit in silence during the important parts.
He squeezes my hand as the theme song chimes the end of the episode.
I look at him and he looks at me.
He doesn't even need to say anything to make me know that he shouldn't be ignored.
Doesn't need to speak for me to know that I should consider him carefully.
I don't need to hear his voice or see his eyes to know he loves me.
That's the difference.
That's the important thing.
But Johnny isn't home, and being in the rain without him is worse than staying inside.
So I do. But I get bored quickly.
I head into the main room and go over to the TV.
Punch the on button and stare as an image of a newscast flickers across the screen.
More on Virginia Tech.
Not that it isn't important; it's just not what I want to be exposed to on a day like today.
On a perfect day like today.
I don't even bother to look at the DVD as I pull it off the top of the pile and slide it into the player.
What a shame.
The volume is down and for a moment I think I may have forgotten why.
Then I remember that we talked last night.
Before the sleep and the nightmares and the waking to the many aches and pains that seem to preoccupy my mind.
I don't remember exactly what we talked about and frankly I'm not in the mood too.
I skip the previews.
Hit play before the menu even has a chance to come up.
I like a surprise every now and then.
What a shame.
Images flicker to life and the first thing I'm faced with are his eyes.
Bright blue eyes that shimmer like they always have.
Like they always will in my memories.
I haven't heard his voice in a couple of weeks.
It's been longer since I've seen those eyes.
It occurs to me that I shouldn't care.
It occurs to me that I really don't.
It's just that he should've called, or I should've called him.
It's just that I don't think he cares anymore.
I watch one episode as the minutes tick by on the clock.
I laugh at his snide remarks.
Smile at his facial expressions.
I feel the way I felt before he ever knew my name.
Somehow that strikes me as wrong, but I know it's not.
Another episode passes and now I'm not laughing.
I'm studying the way he moves, and the way he watches people.
He watched me for a long time.
I think he's stopped now.
I catch on to one thing in particular.
And I begin to wonder if he did that to me.
I wonder why I never saw it before.
He never looks anyone in the eyes.
Unless he's got something important to say.
Something that he feels shouldn't be ignored; something that he thinks you should think about and consider carefully.
I realize that it doesn't matter if he ever looked at me that way.
He probably never will again anyway.
This realization doesn't faze me as Johnny sits down next to me on the couch.
Puts his arm around my shoulder and watches with me.
We laugh together.
We sit in silence during the important parts.
He squeezes my hand as the theme song chimes the end of the episode.
I look at him and he looks at me.
He doesn't even need to say anything to make me know that he shouldn't be ignored.
Doesn't need to speak for me to know that I should consider him carefully.
I don't need to hear his voice or see his eyes to know he loves me.
That's the difference.
That's the important thing.