It's the Walks I Remember...
It's a lonely night in St. Kitts.
There's studying that needs doing... something about a nematode and an immunoglobin, probably some protons at the kidney too. I can't face it. My roommate's in the living room with the neighbor; he cooked her dinner. I had some rotisserie chicken I bought at the store.
I thought I'd go outside for a walk... but there's really nowhere to go. I wandered around the fenced yard for a while... then sat on the hood of my car and stared at the sky. Had a smoke. Wasn't as fulfilling as I'd hoped it would be.
After Kim I thought I'd flirt around a bit - that always made me happy... Except I swear I've forgotten how. Is it the right move? I should be focusing on more important things. Still... it'd be nice to ... something. Maybe it's a distraction, maybe it's exactly what I need. Might as well try. At least if it blows up in my face I wont be curious anymore.
I miss Berry. A lot.
I need a walk around campus. A good long one. One of those walks that starts at Dana with a smoke and wanders in front of the chapel, remarking at the beauty of the ground lit steeple. The kind of walk that trudges up the hill by the townhouses and looks at the back of the science building, remembering everything from chem labs to moping the third floor at o-dark-thirty. It's the peace I miss. Looking out from the hill by the Ladd center, pausing briefly at the bench I did my statistics project at and froze my butt off at. Except that the view from that bench is gone now, what with the new dorms going in. Still, I could gaze down the lane at all the ancient oaks. Deer will be grazing and sleeping behind Hermann. I'd probably lap around towards Krannert, talking aloud or humming a tune. Cigarette's probably gone by now. Anything going on in Krannert? I might stop by to say hey to someone or grab a drink at Valhalla. I'll take the east road past the Cage. I miss Moon. Never had a class in there, never wanted to; it's a nasty building. But you'll never, ever forget those all-nighters with Carmanda and Ryan. I can still smell the red-bull. You can double back by the Library there, somebody's always scrambling on some last minute paper. Then it's the diagonal sidewalk back past Cook and Evans. Even when you walk it, kinda slow like, there's the rush of breeze that cuts across your face like you were on a bicycle. Every morning at 8am, it seems, I'd charge down that hill towards class. Cold. I miss cold too. It's not that chilly there now, probably about the same as here, but I would kill for a chance to get back in long pants and a flannel shirt. By the time I pass the Science building again there's not much thinking left. Just the walk. Just the feel of the pavement under your feet. Old sidewalks, new ones, curbs and cracks and tree roots... even the ancient pavers from when they first built the campus. Might as well wander up to Ford now. More deer, cattle grazing in the pasture across the road. Every time you get to the middle by the trash can the temperature drops a little. Fog always settled in that little valley. And then there's the swing. I used to smirk at the ford girls who'd lay around it during the day or get their picture taken on it, but at night I'd be out there, same as any, watching the stars drift by. On this walk, I think I'll take the full tour de force and wander around the front of Ford Auditorium to have a sit by the reflection pools. I can't even begin to quantify the memories here... There was Shana, and then Ashley, two semesters of trumpet lessons in that window over there; semi-formals over in the dining hall, and the Casting Crowns video on the pool itself... Wescott is just beyond that building there, we wont even begin to cover that. It's late, though, and I digress. The walk back is always faster. Somebody will probably call on the way, and it will be over before I know it. Or I'll move on to the next activity. But those were the walks..
That's what I need right about now.
Instead I'm here at my desk, looking off to the black empty that is the ocean at night. Some kind of frog keeps squeaking here and there amongst the abandoned cane fields. My desk chair, even with the pad, is built for a kindergardener, and it tires the bottom immensely. Hmm, one of the turbo-props is flying over... must be the St. Maarten flight.
I'm tired. Drained. Empty. I need to go home. Sure to Florida, that's always nice; but to Berry as well. I will, soon. Just not quite soon enough. In the mean time, then, I sit here in front of the computer and daydream. I swore to myself I'd never be 'emo' again. I'm not convinced that's exactly what this is, though I'm sure it sounds like it. School is hard. Life is hard. Nobody said it was easy and I accept that. It's when the hard busts you down so far you're not sure which way to turn to start going back up that's got me all confused. I just don't know anything any more. Where to turn, who to talk to, how to study or even what to start with first. I'm just dead inside. For a while I drank to get rid of my woes. I've always had another addiction or two that were never totally healthy. Even that doesn't help any more.
I need something new. Something fresh. Something that makes me happy. Or something very old and proven.
Still... something's gotta give.
I just hope it isn't me.
~R