My soul is as open as the sky
Often times its just as blue
People tell me to keep on dreamin'
Thats just what I'm gonna' do

Fifteen, maybe twenty kids... teenagers, biding their time outside of 'Phil's, ' a sixteen year old boy I met the day before. The boys played hockey in the street while the girls sat on the curb, smoking cigarettes and catching up on stories. I stepped to the side, turned my back to the entire group and focused on the sky above.

Caitlin. " ...there he goes again, staring off into the distance. " was my wakeup call from contemplating the three Cs. The boys were off playing hockey in the street still, and the girls were still sitting on the sidewalk smoking and talking, 'cept this time it was about me. "Oh, now he turns around. " I pout, push out my lower lip and lower my eyes to their faces, seeking out the pair of eyes I'd been studying for the past couple of days. Reflecting on it now, a month removed from my adventure in Kansas City, that night stands out as the main catalyst to the pensive state of mind I'm in at the moment. Another side of the girl I've known since I was in elementary was opened up to me that night. Prior to that night, our relationship consisted of late night phone calls and long winded letters ever since we both moved and were forced step into new phases in life. I moved into a new city just prior to junior high, had to make new friends

-That didn't work out too well since most of the people I'd claim as a friend or aquantance from 7th-10th grade are further away from me on a personal level than you, whoever you are, reading this is. I guess thats how highschool is... you do things to impress people, dress a certain way, talk a certain way, listen to whatever music just to fit in to a group, to belong until you reach a point where all that stuff doesn't matter so much. Its... complicated. Once you reach that point, the people you invested so much time, effort, and even money into in an attempt to fit in no longer seem to matter to you as they once did. A lot of people may want to be an individual, but believe you me, its not all that its cracked out to be, especially if you choose to be one. Being a nonconformist sucks because you never know just what to wear. -

And she had just moved to Kansas City I believe… anyway, there I was that night, spending time with the people who had put on this earth to live their own separate lives while molding hers, and in a way, my own. They affected her, and since she affected me… it was all connected. I reflect back on it now, remembering the faces of the girls on the sidewalk smoking their cigarettes and the boys running through the streets, not troubled by either the war in the middle east or the clash of Mavericks against Heat ( BOOOOOOOOO D-WADE ) and I wonder who among them were contributors to her struggle with drugs. Which among them were the children of the MK-ULTRA (Look it up, scary stuff) fiasco and which ones were people I would’ve really enjoyed being around. Despite the aloof contenance, the pwning of many a fool to be pittied in football( During my brief, brief successful career was a touch down I scored WHILE ON DEFENSE back in the 7th grade. Never achieved that much success on the JV or Varsity levels though. ), and the stoic dreamer façade worn during 11th and 12th grade, I generally enjoy other people… when they’re not teasing me about daydreaming and staring off into the distance, or playing hockey in the streets.

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She knows well I don't deserve her
She laughs and says,
"Thats the way love goes."


The two of us sat in the café behind of the book store. She was drinking some mocha contraption, a contraption I declined to take a sip of because the smell of coffee beans and the thought of drinking it again makes my stomach flip like dead fishies. So she sat there, slurping the coffee drink and flipping through the pages of a Cosmopolotian-I know I butchered the spelling- magazine while I gave my best attempt at studying for a pre cal exam.

I know it’s a bad habit, but I always roll my bottom lip backwards into my mouth and clench down on it when I’m concentrating. I did it then, sitting in the café across from Anh before she mentioned something about grabbing a new book and before I knew what was happening, we were both walking to the bookstore and then to separate directions: her to the manga section and me to the short stories. I grabbed a favorite book of mine to show her,(drown, by Junot Diaz,) and made my way to the comic section.

Anh stood there, one arm wrapped around her stomach and the other resting vertically across her chest where an elbow was leaning up against the opposite wrist. Her mouth was opened a little, and she had an index finger pressed up against her chin while she looked over the selection of comics. I felt more comfortable in the actual book store than the café because there weren’t unfamiliar faces to every direction but across from me, and I felt I could talk more openly there where the only witness to our conversation were the ink blots. Today was the day before valentines day. I brought her a stuffed lion before we ended up at the book store and told her what I thought she ought to know before I pack my bags and drive 5 hours away for college, only to come back for Christmas and summer time. I told her she was important to me.

Important to me. Now that I think about it, just about everyone is important to me… at least, they all should be. I’ve been struggling with the concept of ‘ love thy neighbor, ‘ even those who hurt you. My teacher pulled me aside the other day and told me she thought I was a good kid and would turn out to be a great man, and warned me to watch my pride because it’s something I’ll struggle with. She sees through my blank façade,( Which is the hardest to wear, btw because no one wants to conform with you. Stoics are the loneliest. ), and says that I’m a very emotional thinker and person, which if you hadn’t guessed by reading some of my entries, I guess I am. Not too proud of being called an emotional person since it goes against what I want on my tombstone, (“The manliest man to ever exist since 1988,”), but I’ll accept the thinker thing.

The thing is… I don’t have to struggle much when I’m around Anh. Especially in our car rides to and from places, where I’m most comfortable. We drive, I talk, she listens, she talks, I listen, and my guard is down. It hardly ever goes down. But its down then, and that’s why she is important to me. Not saying you, whoever you are reading this isn’t important either…

I don’t need a guard. I just wish I didn’t want one as well.

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