The Definition of Time

Chapter 4

i saw stars in your eyes
as if they were the entire universe,
a whole galaxy designed
for my enjoyment.

I reached for them
trying to connect our stars
in a constellation
but your stars
were in galaxies i could never reach
and you did not want to see
the constellation I was trying to draw
my stars were too dull and eternal
and yours were too brilliant and temporary

September 9, 2013

School has started.

I thought it would be more climactic, somehow symbolizing my ascent to adulthood. It wasn't. It felt like the first day of high school in many ways, a bunch of scared freshmen staring at their professor in awed terror. However, two weeks have passed and I've settled into the swing of things. My roommate, Jordan, and I have been getting along well. She's a transfer student, a few years my senior, but she puts up with my relative youth with only the minimal amount of ridicule.

She and I are out on the university's quad, enjoying the last remains of summer. We've thrown a ratty plaid blanket on the ground and are lying on our stomachs, soaking in warm sun rays on our shoulders. I have my anthropology book propped open, but I'm lost in thought, as usual, staring out at the sea of people.

I often find myself wondering if I can ever go back to the way I felt in the woods. I feel like I'm in a constant state of waiting, but what I'm waiting for has either already passed or has yet to come. I crave that feeling I had in the woods. I don't know what to call it--joy, happiness, contentment. Those words seem artificial in comparison with the way I felt. Full. Overflowing with a fervor for life. When I was with them in the woods, laughing and carefree, life was psychedelic; now, in the real world again, it's fading to pastels.

I'm so caught up in my thoughts that I don't even notice Josh tossing his backpack to the ground and reclining on his back next to me.

"Oh," I say, "Hey."

"Hey, Rach," he says, laughingly.

Josh's voice is always filled with laughter. Sometimes I think he even laughs at the world. He tucks his arms behind his head and squints at the sky then looks at me. Everything about him is so carefree and light hearted, as if he could fly away if he wanted to. I am heavy and filled with gravity, serious and contemplative. I am grounded to the earth, but always looking up for an escape that will never come.

Josh eyes me curiously, "You look like you're working hard."

I laugh a little, "Nah. I should be, though. I have a test in anthropology on Thursday."

"I have a test in Bio this afternoon, and you don't see me studying," he flashes me a cheeky grin.

I roll my eyes at him, "Maybe you should be."

"I definitely should be," he says blithely, making no move to retrieve his books from his backpack.

I turn my head to look at him, shoving a stubborn curl from my eyes and squinting in the bright sunlight. His eyes are vivid, dispelling the grayscale around me. Around him, life is technicolor again.

"I'd offer to help, but I sucked at Bio," I offer.

"By 'sucked', you mean you got a B?"

I smirk at him, "Yeah, right. Try an A-."

"Nerd."

I hardly notice his teasing or smirks anymore. They're part of who he is, part of his charm. I'm not the only one who notices his charm or the appeal of his sideways smile. So many freshmen girls have flocked to him--he's tall, attractive, funny, unassuming. My eyes wander over his face, taking in his familiar features. He has one dimple at the corner of his right cheek that matches the way his right eyebrow arches sardonically. His face is oval with strong, wide cheekbones, a sharp jawline. His almond eyes are offset by dark, thick eyebrows. Those eyes...sometimes they're all I can see when I look at him.