Different colored minds

grieving for home

PAMELA POV

I can hear rain outside of my window. It brings me back to the rain on the tin roofs in the jungle. The ridges filled in glossy rain water. A thousand thick pellets of warm water ricocheting off the metal and rolling down into the gardens. I look up at the ceiling with my mind in a different place. I can almost hear the thunderous rain. I can almost feel the night tingling with wild life. I roll over in bed. It hurts to miss the jungle. But there it is. I miss it. It's like how someone feels when they finally find the love of their life. The two of them are meant for each other in one of their pairs of eyes. And then one day. One of them changes their mind and leaves. And now the other person is left to watch the decay of what used to feel like home.
That's how I feel. If I go back, the people I love will be long gone. The greenery will be different, the houses will be older. And the school I went to as a child won't exist anymore. It will be a shell of what I once called home. I don't know which is worse. The death of the past or the death of the dream I could one day go back. To be honest I never got along with the people down there very well. A lot of the missionaries were cold. They had this way of looking at the world without actually seeing it. The ones I really related to were the martyrs. The ones who died for their faith. It's dumb. The only people I can seem to get along with are dead or exist in books.
I roll over again in my bed. Maybe I will go back. Maybe one day the school will live again and I can be back with the giant elephant leaves, and strange fruits. Back to crying and laughing with people whose language I can barely speak. We don't need language. We needed eachother. But I might never get to go back there. Maybe that's what I'm afraid of. That I'll never see my big banana leaved home again. Or worse, I'll never hear the rain bang on the old tin roofs again.
I roll over to look at the clock. I should be asleep by now. It's too late to be awake.
Why do I always have to think about things I don't want to think about?! There are so many things to think about out there and here I am thinking about the same things over and over and over again.
Why can't I just leave a subject behind? Leave anything behind?

And then there he is. The boy that sits next to me in class. He's intriguing. He does strange things. He notices the small things that no one else does, he just doesn't react. He's not reserved, well maybe that's it but there's more to it than that. Honestly he reminds me of my brother. Cold and collected on the outside. He must have a tumultuous time on the inside. I wonder what goes on inside his head. Is it like what goes through mine?
He doesn't know I've been having these thoughts. Our hands touched the other day while I was shifting a paper. He was as hot as home. And he has this golden tan skin. He's so odd. He feels more like a unicorn. I find myself looking for more about him. Not intentionally, I just can't help but tune in when I hear his name. Apparently he's completely different this year. Something about an accident. Apparently he dated the head of the cheer team. She's gorgeous so I'm not surprised there. Then they broke up. No one knows why and neither of them will say a word. I think that's probably Best but it is frustrating. Why do people willingly leave eachother? How does one person decide the other one isn't good enough to keep? Maybe they want different things. Maybe they can't get over their differences. There's a ton of reasons to leave at the end of the day. I guess that's why that's what I'm most afraid of. I don't want to be left behind. I want a family. A home. And it's too fucking easy to lose one.
I've never factored in things working out with someone and actually fulfilling that dream. I'm too nervous to go up to anyone and who would want to walk up to me. My life is better on my own.
Only he intrigues me. Maybe I should try and befriend him. Look past my assumptions and try and get to know him. I don't do well with people. Men usually think I'm flirting with them when I show the least amount of interest. Most of the time the hotter the guy the more they think I'm flirting with them. No matter how hard I try. It's how the cookie crumbles. Every. Single. Time. And then they run.
Don't get me wrong. I've never dated anyone. I don't want to have to live through what my parents do but sometimes they look happy. And I guess the sometimes they look happy is why I do this. Why I do any of this. I want to change the world. I want to be a better person. I want to make the people around me better people. I want to make relationships that don't wash away like sand. I want to make friendships that withstand the storms and overcome the odds. I want to believe in the impossible. I want to believe in peace. And I know that peace is not achieved alone. And it's not achieved only with people. Success and peace are both subjective. That's why I have problems. If I could split open my head and get an idea of what is going wrong perhaps I would know how to do better. It's too bad I can't dissect my thoughts. Everything is so subjective and I'm left alone to swim through it. Unless god is there.