Past and Present || Nick, Ben
There’s always those moments, those small little lapses where you forget something important. The stove, the lights, maybe even something essential to your workday or class. Nick however was blissfully unaware he’d left one of his bound journals in the cafe he frequented before work. After all, it was one of several books he carried around and so it didn’t concern him till he was all the way to the library.
Silver Prius rolling up to the doors, early as per usual, he patted his satchel and something, of course, felt off. His oldest journal would often be in place in the outside pocket, one from years ago it was perhaps the earliest one he’d written. Today it was not in it’s place and briefly he remembered pulling it out to read one of the entries in a fit of nostalgia. It’d served for a good combination with coffee and breakfast, but panic did not explain the feeling in his gut now. It took a moment for him to gather himself, for him to not feel like his heart was being punched through a straw. Immediately, Nick backed out of his parking space. He could open five minutes late if it meant that he found his book.
The text however was fine and content where it was as Nicholas raced to it. The sunny day graced it’s text, Nicholas’ sprawling handwriting displayed to the world. It was proud of itself, the words. Most of them were made in a certain sort of confidence Nicholas didn’t have these days, the nostalgic and lovelorn youth he’d been... not completely gone, but subdued in a sense, in most senses. He didn’t write a much for himself anymore, didn’t have anyone to write about in some ways up until recent events and his move to Sumner. Laying bare for the world, it’s pages flicked lightly in the wind until it opened to a page Nicholas often frequented.
April 10th, 2012
Softness is, an arm wrapped around her waist, her hair tickling my nose. Softness, or this newfound weakness in a more literal sense, is also not knowing what is going on in the world around myself, not caring. Sleep barely comes readily now as I stare at the back of her black hair. I’d dreamed this before, I’m sure of it, but now it is too real with her actually here. All too soon it’s gone.
Elaine. She had that thing about her where you can sense she was out. She would only un-tense when she was asleep... only then and a few other times when we’re alone. Both of us do it actually. I smile to myself remembering this small detail about her, being able to see the similarities between her now and then. Both of us are nervous people, and somehow it all just works. Had worked... Still, despite it being real there is that questioning again. How? How is it ending? I pushed it down, that voice of reason that kept niggling at the back of my brain. This back and forth keeps me from falling asleep. My head was just filled with nothing but warm thoughts in a sleepy haze then. I’d focus on my breathing, trying not to move from my position holding her while it lasted. Nothing helped.
Dreams are too short lived it seems and I’m waxing poetic again just thinking about waiting for a response from her. Will she leave him? I doubt it for some reason and I wait anyways. I’ve waited for days as is. Sometimes in class and in the halls she passes me but it’s back to the looks she gave me when we first met... there’s distance there. Ainsley, he tells me to focus on our studies instead and I’m trying my best. I had to fight with him multiple times over it, over my ‘situation’ and he says keeping it a secret really only will hurt me long term. He’s right, but really, nothing is helping.
@ben-ferreira
