Affliction

            The chrysanthemums were blooming beautifully today. It was the first time I’d ever seen such beauty in flowers before and I kind of wanted to stand here all day and stare at them for however long my two feet could manage to keep me from hitting the ground. I prayed silently that I could find more beauty today. Perhaps a cute baby dressed in something other than a onesie; a bird feeding its children; the end of a rainbow; or even the moon in the sky even though it's a bright and sunny day. I couldn’t find any beauty yesterday, unsurprisingly. I was too nervous to notice flowers or animals or even my mom's wide, gap toothed grin. I’ve known for a week now that I would see him again and I’ve been nothing but a ball of nerves. When I’m not completely stricken with disbelief and anxiety, I’m numb. Numb to the severity of seeing him again because I know he won’t feel the same feelings for me. He’s incapable of ever reciprocating those feelings and yet I’m still a wreck because he is the only who truly got me when I was younger. I wonder if he’ll still get me now. If he’ll greet me with a hug or a handshake. Will he tell me that he’s missed me; that it’s been far too long since we’ve last spoken? Perhaps he’ll bring me a present or a fun memory of the past. I’m hopeful for these things though they are unlikely of happening. 

            “Go along now, you don’t want to be late,” my mom ushers me out of the front doorway where I had been standing in awe of our garden. 

It took impeccable patience to perfect our little flowers and fruits but I’m grateful for their presence now. It’s funny how planting something in the ground and then watching it grow can make you feel a little more connected to it – to nature too. 

            “I’m going, I’m going. Are you sure you don’t want to come?” I ask her. 

She looks at me as if I’ve just asked her why she, a second grade English teacher, hasn’t started curing cancer yet. It was dumb to ask her to come seeing as this was the person who broke my heart but I figured she wouldn’t mind providing me with moral support. I guess not. She takes a deep breath before answering me. 

            “Call me when you get the chance okay?” 

Evading the question at hand. My mother was always the expert in that field. I nod my head at her before getting in my little, royal blue Volkswagen.

"I need verbal confirmation that you will call me before the day is out so I know you haven't been murdered," she yells through my car window. I wind it down so that she can better hear me.

"You really think that he would murder me?" I give her a pointed look and she simply shrugs her shoulders.

"He's done worse and you know he has."

She had a point but I'd like to think he'd stand a fair chance next to an actual serial killer. I know she's just trying to be protective so I don't fight her anymore on it.

"I promise to call you as soon as I get the chance." I assure her.

"Preferably when you're not with him?"

This would be common knowledge and I tell her as much.

I place the key in the ignition and wave my mom off before pulling out onto the street. She blows me air kisses and I catch each invisible one and place them in my shirt pocket. Patting it down after to show how much I appreciate them. I turn the radio on to fill the empty car silence. A song by The Romans comes on and I get lost in it. I barely listen to them but whenever I do hear them it's like they express all the ways I'm feeling when I can't quite understand the feelings myself. Cars zig by all around me but I don’t even focus on them because right now it’s just me and the music. It’s just me and the whole world. I need to focus on that – on this never ending peace I feel before I see him and he ruins it all. I wished I lived farther than the train station so my peace could’ve lasted longer but sadly I was already pulling into a parking spot. I check my hair in my rearview mirror, reapply some lip gloss, and do a quick take on my teeth to ensure they’re clean. I shut my eyes for a second and remember that he doesn’t get to control me anymore…I control me. I exit my car and walk over to where a group of strangers are waiting for their train travelers. A woman in a beautiful yellow sun dress and a huge hat talks loudly on her cellphone. Apparently her brother is arriving today and she has to pretend to be happy with him even though she can’t stand his “entitled and overly privileged ass.” Basically, we’ve all got problems I guess. There's also an older couple who are holding hands and rocking side to side as if they have access to their own private band and are dancing as if no one else is around. The sight of it makes my heart twinge. I stare at the train tracks that are just a few feet in front of me. They look old, rusty, and depressing. At least they’re fulfilling their purpose – doing what they were meant to do. Just past the train tracks is an expanse of greenery and I almost trip over the bare ground when I see them. Chrysanthemums in full bloom. I allow myself to smile as the train comes honking down the tracks rapidly, before pulling to a stop in front of me and the strangers surrounding me. I steady myself and wait. I wait for him to exit. 

I wait for my dad.