In Your Skies

Chapter 2 (Part 2)

“You know that we love you…”

Oh shit, they’re kicking me out to live alone in the streets and begging for loose change because they realized they can’t live with the fact that they’d have to live with a gay son.

“And we also know you hate going to really hot places, so we decided and we trust you that you can live alone in this house. We’re going to Florida next week and we want you to look after the house, Alex decided to tag along as well. You’re going to be the man of the house for a week or two. nless, you'd want to come as well?”

Woman of the house, I thought. Whew, I released the air I was holding, that was a relief.

I played with the lone potato on my plate, trying to fork it off to the curved lilac-painted edges of my porcelain plate, trying to match the purpled potato onto the flowers.

“I guess I can handle that, just as long as you stock up the pantry with food and not let me starve out and die for the vultures to feast on.”

“Wow, that was easier than I thought,” dad remarked.

“I mean, that should be easy, right? When are you guys leaving?”

“Wednesday night.”

Dinner was over and I headed back to my room. I took off my maroon fairisle sweater and went to the bathroom to brush my teeth and wash my face. The water started rushing out from the faucet, listening to nothing but the gashing of the water on the sink, the light in my bathroom was incredibly bright, like when you enter a photo studio with all the 100watt lights directed on your face as if it was toast. The white tiled bathroom reflected the light well, hurting my eyes by the minute, adding to the agony.

I stared at myself in the mirror, thinking how blind people could be for thinking I’m nothing, I mean look at me, look at this fine creature staring back at me. I leaned closer onto the mirror which was now slowly being taken over with steam, clouding my vision. I wipe the smooth surface of the mirror clean with my wrist and I examine my face: bony and slim, my cheeks caving in. I caress the dark bags under my deep green eyes and pulled my short brown fringe to side to see my forehead and learn that nope, there’s no scar. How disappointing, I’m not Harry Potter. But hey, at least my body can teach geometry! I traced the triangular birthmark on my neck, just below my left ear and think it’s an asset, a distinguishing mark people will know me for when I get famous. I can use this to teach shapes when I go to Africa to educate those cute little boys and girls I saw in a UNICEF campaign.

I was smiling to myself again, and I realize how I hate these moments. I hate being left alone with only myself. It’s those times when you contemplate on your life, and be all deep and ultimately feel complete shit about yourself. You feel the weight of the universe, you see all the flaws, all the mistakes and all the regrets. You think about the future and you look at the present and try to live off of it, succumbing the what could’ve and would’ve beens if you took the leap. But then you shrug it off because you live to see the sun rise and wish to become a better person when it sets. No second-thoughts, no regrets.

I think I’ll be perpetually and perennially single; no one would want someone who gives more time to reading than eating. No one would dare to be with someone who listens to bands that are practically close to non-existent. I’m plain and boring like sugar-free candies and plain salted chips. I sigh, putting my weight on my arms that were pegged on the sink and I come to a conclusion that clearly, people fail to admire the beauty in the mundane.

I touch the running water, my fingers taken aback, only to find out that it was scorching hot. I turned it off and went for the cold water instead. I laid my hands on the spotless yet germ-filled white sink, not giving a care as I let the icy water fall freely on them. I see drops of water sparkling on the mirror, sliding down like tears on my reflection. Cold stings covered my hands and eventually my whole arm went numb, feeling nothing. I stared at the clear water splashing and cupped my hands and splat it directly onto my face.

I let out a faint shriek as the ice-cold water came in contact to my face, I was back to reality. My eyes widened and I started shivering as the water dripped onto my bare chest, outlining my slightly protruding ribs. I blasted another one on face, surging into my nerves verifying that I am alive, confirming that I am still human, that I still exist.

I remember a classmate of mine say, whose name I was never capable of pronouncing, something about the Theory of the Multiverse. It says that there are infinite amounts of universes parallel to ours that contain every possible set of circumstances, and then I stop and think that maybe somewhere out in the vast seas of stars and planets, there is a world wherein I am actually happy in the arms of someone, a world where I can call someone my own and we’d go to all these poetry slams together and share our favorite books, a world where I was probably straight and had three legs.

I took a deep breath, holding on to the towel hanger, I left the bathroom and did not bother wiping my face and changing into pajamas. Dripping and still in my black jeans, I tried to douse my impromptu soliloquy with some Beatles, I put on Across the Universe on repeat and threw myself onto my bed, staring blankly into the glowing stars and planets on my ceiling, feeling the water drip slowly down my cheek.

Jai guru deva om. Nothing’s gonna change my world…