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Persistence of Memory
I close my eyes. I need to escape. The hallway of my highschool fades slowly into view. The sounds and smells that were all so familiar to me three years ago suddenly inspire a sense of curiosity. I begin to walk down the hall, and as it is passing period, lockers are bustling with activity and students. There is someone by my side.
It's Matt. Funny my mind should pick him, I think to myself. I've been over Matthew for almost 5 years now. We walk down the hallway together, and I point to the classroom on our right.
"See that room there?" I ask him, turning around as we pass it. "That's where I first met you. Mrs. Pell's ninth-grade english class."
He turns and nods his head.
I look him in the eyes, and add: "It's also where I first realized I was in love with you." He chuckles in a typical, Matt fashion and I'm happy he finds it amusing.
The scene fades out, and we are sitting in Mrs. Pell's english class. I am sitting in the last desk by the wall behind Aubrey. Matt is sitting in the last desk in the row against the opposite wall. I realise I'm staring at him and try to concentrate on the lecture, but it's no use. He is lounging back in his chair, a foot up on the desk, pen in his mouth.
Let's see what we can do, I think to myself.
I stand up, but my mind's control of the imagery is distorted and I clumsily rise to 15 feet, my head crashing through the ceiling into the room above. Everyone turns to look at me as I shake the debris from my head and shrink myself down to normal size.
"Please sit down," Mrs. Pell says, motioning to my chair.
No, this is all wrong, I think, and suddenly time freezes. The students around me sit silent and still. The teacher's mouth is open slightly. I look at Matthew, but he is also frozen. No, this isn't realistic enough.
I unfreeze the scene, and Mrs. Pell continues lecturing as though nothing is amis. I walk slowly across the back of the room, and no one seems to be noticing. No one will notice. No one knows.
Matthew looks up at me, expectantly, and stands up slowly as I approach his chair. The pen in his mouth has been replaced by a piece of chewing gum, and I stop in front of him. We are facing each other. I can feel the heat eminating from his body, the softness of his shirt. I close my eyes and we slide closer to each other. I wait for impact. His face is so close to mine, that I can feel his breath in my mouth.
His lips meet mine. I realize I've been holding my breath and inhale sharply. I smell him. The Matt smell. My hands run through his hair, his tongue in my mouth. His hands cup my face. I'm breathing too heavily.
Slowly I fade back into reality, as my accelerated breathing must have disrupted my dreaming. Matthew is watching me disappear as he sits down. I smile at the memory of something which never happened.
It was an escape that I thought I had forgotten how to do. Sometimes your mind suprises itself. I take a deep breath and exhale a bit of the insanity that has been plaguing me for so long.
Thanks, Chris. I needed that.
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