home- vanessa carlton
this is one of those nights that i lay in bed (with my cousin sleeping next to me) and i wish that i could start at the manhattan beach pier and just keep walking.
but the wrong thoughts pop in to my head.
tonight mad and sparky and i walked to hermosa. it can't have been more than a mile and a half.
it wasn't enough to calm my need to exercise and my need to be cruel to my body.
but it was enough to run in to one (two?) of the guys who made my biology class hell.
i keep telling myself to get over it. i mean hell, it was two years ago and they were just ignorant homophobes that liked to see people get mad.
but that didn't stop me from getting near-uncontrolled anger the second i heard that kid's voice coming towards the three of us on the strand. he was in a group of people. knowing costa kids, he was probably drunk/high.
i don't, as a rule, engage in any sort of fight with an unarmed opponent (be it one without wits, or one that's incapacitated by means of inebriation)- it's just not an honorable fight. i don't tend to punch people or deal with them physically. i learned two things about physical fights: 1. they leave marks and evidence is not good if you want to get away with it and 2. i can hurt people and that's just not courteous.
this didn't stop my fists from clenching and my stomach muscle from setting and my biceps from flexing under my sweatshirt. i wanted to punch them. i wanted one of us to feel pain. to get satisfaction from the encounter- by having won or by having tried and lost.
he recognized me immediately. started saying my name in that awful singsong voice they used to annoy me when a teacher was around.
i told him to fuck off. i was with my friends. i wasn't bothering him. i never had to see him again. we don't go to the same school anymore. no chance of running in to him (this was actually one of the things i celebrated upon graduating).
i didn't say all of this, of course. i stopped after "fuck off"
he and his friends walked by us and he kept up saying my name in that horrible tone as he passed.
my usually-sharp wit was lost. i had no scathing remarks or psychological games or distainful stares that i usually use to get to people.
i tried to stop myself from reacting.
i tried to keep myself from shouting.
i tried to keep myself from hitting him.
i tried to keep myself from kicking and screaming and punching and slapping and kneeing him.
i get a 6/8 for self-restraint.
i settled for shouting "fuck off and die" at his retreating back.
and then i went back to myself and hoped that i hadn't disturbed any of the innocent people sleeping in their homes.
i explained who this kid was to mad and sparky, who immediately volunteered to help me take care of him.
please just grant me the ability to never see him again.
we walked on, me in the quiet moments contemplating what i should have done, what words i should have said.
we stopped when we reached the hermosa pier.
sparky got something to drink while i called brian and jordan.
brian and jordan picked us up and drove us home.
i wanted to keep walking. i didn't want to stop. i wished it were just a little colder so i could feel some chill through my sundress and make my sweatshirt actually worth wearing. i thought about what it will be like in a month when i want to go walking and there's a cool wind that will turn my nose pink and render thin cloth useless. i thought about walking around lakes instead of alongside oceans.
i felt alone. i had my best friends. and i felt alone.
never before have i thought more of seattle as the place i /need/ to be.
it's home a little already. i have an apartment. i looked through the mail. i cleaned up the bathroom sink. i slept in what will be my bed. i emptied the dishwasher. i had keys. i have friends to hang out with.
i want to be there so badly.
i'll walk late at night. just find a lake to walk around. i'll keep my knife in my pocket and my flashlight in my hand. i'll breathe. i'll feel the cold blowing through my jacket.
i might even have a hand to hold.
i hope so.
i always hope.
but the wrong thoughts pop in to my head.
tonight mad and sparky and i walked to hermosa. it can't have been more than a mile and a half.
it wasn't enough to calm my need to exercise and my need to be cruel to my body.
but it was enough to run in to one (two?) of the guys who made my biology class hell.
i keep telling myself to get over it. i mean hell, it was two years ago and they were just ignorant homophobes that liked to see people get mad.
but that didn't stop me from getting near-uncontrolled anger the second i heard that kid's voice coming towards the three of us on the strand. he was in a group of people. knowing costa kids, he was probably drunk/high.
i don't, as a rule, engage in any sort of fight with an unarmed opponent (be it one without wits, or one that's incapacitated by means of inebriation)- it's just not an honorable fight. i don't tend to punch people or deal with them physically. i learned two things about physical fights: 1. they leave marks and evidence is not good if you want to get away with it and 2. i can hurt people and that's just not courteous.
this didn't stop my fists from clenching and my stomach muscle from setting and my biceps from flexing under my sweatshirt. i wanted to punch them. i wanted one of us to feel pain. to get satisfaction from the encounter- by having won or by having tried and lost.
he recognized me immediately. started saying my name in that awful singsong voice they used to annoy me when a teacher was around.
i told him to fuck off. i was with my friends. i wasn't bothering him. i never had to see him again. we don't go to the same school anymore. no chance of running in to him (this was actually one of the things i celebrated upon graduating).
i didn't say all of this, of course. i stopped after "fuck off"
he and his friends walked by us and he kept up saying my name in that horrible tone as he passed.
my usually-sharp wit was lost. i had no scathing remarks or psychological games or distainful stares that i usually use to get to people.
i tried to stop myself from reacting.
i tried to keep myself from shouting.
i tried to keep myself from hitting him.
i tried to keep myself from kicking and screaming and punching and slapping and kneeing him.
i get a 6/8 for self-restraint.
i settled for shouting "fuck off and die" at his retreating back.
and then i went back to myself and hoped that i hadn't disturbed any of the innocent people sleeping in their homes.
i explained who this kid was to mad and sparky, who immediately volunteered to help me take care of him.
please just grant me the ability to never see him again.
we walked on, me in the quiet moments contemplating what i should have done, what words i should have said.
we stopped when we reached the hermosa pier.
sparky got something to drink while i called brian and jordan.
brian and jordan picked us up and drove us home.
i wanted to keep walking. i didn't want to stop. i wished it were just a little colder so i could feel some chill through my sundress and make my sweatshirt actually worth wearing. i thought about what it will be like in a month when i want to go walking and there's a cool wind that will turn my nose pink and render thin cloth useless. i thought about walking around lakes instead of alongside oceans.
i felt alone. i had my best friends. and i felt alone.
never before have i thought more of seattle as the place i /need/ to be.
it's home a little already. i have an apartment. i looked through the mail. i cleaned up the bathroom sink. i slept in what will be my bed. i emptied the dishwasher. i had keys. i have friends to hang out with.
i want to be there so badly.
i'll walk late at night. just find a lake to walk around. i'll keep my knife in my pocket and my flashlight in my hand. i'll breathe. i'll feel the cold blowing through my jacket.
i might even have a hand to hold.
i hope so.
i always hope.