College has been feeling truly like college recently. Sitting outside in a carhartt jacket and beanie passing a cigarette back and forth bitching about everyone we love and hate. Sitting on the floor eating dominos and watching someone play Grand Theft Auto. Smoking weed and getting high enough for sentimentality, but not high enough to worry about burning your friend's birthday cake in the oven. Being annoyed at your drunk roommate. Walking to get food and being stopped by drunk girls in skimpy clothing despite the 20 degree weather who are just dying to know if your bridge piercing hurt as much as it looks like it did.
The night me and Hannah were bitching outside over Marlboro Reds, I told them it really felt like college. We were smacking hand warmers against the table trying to get them hot enough to warm our red fingers. The cold wind against my face felt sharp, but I didn't want to leave. It had been ringing in my head all day what hannah's mom had said about me. That I'm hannah's favorite friend. They played it off but I could tell they completely meant it when they told their mom. They droned on about how they just hate everyone else, but I know that's not true. I felt like a little kid. They passed me the cigarette and I held it for a second and looked around. I think about what my dad would say. He hates cigarettes. I think about what my mom would say. She'd never want me to do what she's done. I put it in my mouth and fill it up with smoke. Hannah mocks the way I blow it out of the side of my mouth. I insist that it's so I don't blow it in their face, but they insist back that I'm trying to look cool. I roll my eyes in an exaggerated way that makes them laugh. They told me they miss living with just me. I told them I agree. No one can bitch like me and Hannah. They say its because we're jewish. I think it's because we're bitchy. We talk more about our roommate troubles in paradise and high school, then Hannah says it's time to go back home. I feel a little sad, I could stay out here forever. But my nose is running and my fingers feel raw and the hand warmers were duds. We walk back in, I realize they're walking slower down the hallway to keep our conversation going before we inevitably go back into our home and join our friends. The warm of our dorm prickles the coldest parts of my body in a way that almost hurts. I go lay down.
I don't want to lose you again. We're in the same circumstance as we were when the dark age began. I'll be honest, I worry about it. We barely call, and I know its because you're busy, but it's true regardless. I don't know what to do. I don't know what to say. I'm sorry it is this way.
I've known for a long time
I'm not getting what I want out of people
It took me a long time
To figure out I don't know what I want
So you'll ask "Why?" and there will be no answer
Then you'll ask "For how long?" and there will be no answer
Then you'll ask "What can I do?" and there'll be no answer
And eventually you will shut upYou have no right to be depressed
You haven't tried hard enough to like it
Haven't seen enough of this world yet
But it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts
Well stop your whining, try again
No one wants to cause you pain
They're just trying to let some air in
But you hold your breath, you hold your breath, you hold it
Hold my breath, I hold my breath, I hold it
