here without you

05

I leave the house to wait for Nate to come and pick me up. As usual he's late, and as usual I'm early. No matter where I go, I always try to arrive earlier than I have to. The thought of people having to wait for me makes me uncomfortable, plus I don't mind waiting for others.

After a couple of minutes pass, I see Nate's car. I walk up to it, open the door, and sit down next to him, saying, "If you're gonna be this late next time, I'll just drive to school in my own car."

Both of us know I'd never do that. Of course I could, but I'm used to Nate driving me to school. It only rarely happens, maybe once or twice a month, that I drive to school on my own. Sometimes I prefer not having company, not even Nate's.

"Yeah, right," he says and lets out a laugh, which makes me grin.

Nate has turned on some music, and as soon as I'm finished putting on my seat belt, I reach out my arm to push the button which turns it off. The silence which follows it strangely loud.

"You can't keep doing this forever, Roze." His voice is calm, but I can detect a slight tone of annoyance in it.

I say nothing, hoping he'll just let it go. He looks at me, uncertain whether he should add something.

"Maybe I can," I say, and he sighs.

We've had this conversation several of times, but it still hasn't been possible for him to change my mind.

I used to love music. It seemed fascinating to me how someone else could find the exact words for what I'm feeling. My whole life, I have always listened to it. I enjoyed finding the right song for every imaginable situation. Whether I was sad or happy, I listened to music all the time.

But now, I can't stand it. It makes me feel things I don't want to feel, it takes me back to places which no longer exist, and it causes me to relive memories I try to forget. It makes me think of her. It hurts too much, so I keep it away from me as good as I can.

Nate knows this is how I'm feeling, and he accepts it - at least most of the time. He doesn't fully comprehend it. To be honest, neither do I. Is it not now that I would need it the most? To have someone express my emotions, put them into words, comfort me? It would make sense, but I don't want it. It would make me feel too much, and it seems less painful to me choosing to feel nothing than everything at once.

And it's not like I have cut it completely out of my life. If necessary, I can be around it, like on parties - which I don't often go to anymore -, but I prefer not to.

Nate has started driving, and I try to change the subject of our conversation so that we won't have a fight.

"How's basketball going?" I say.

I used to go to the matches at school, and I enjoyed watching them. My sister was a cheerleader, my best friend was one of the best players on the field and so was my boyfriend at that time. I practically had no choice but to watch the games, but I have to admit that they really were fun.

Since Olive is gone, I'm not going anymore. Too much noises, too much people, too much fun. Weird, isn't it? How the things I used to enjoy are now the things I avoid due to her death. Music, basketball, parties - there are more things. It's like when she left, she took all of them with her. I feel selfish for even thinking this, but maybe that is just what I am. Selfish.

Nate doesn't blame me for not going. He's understanding about it, though he has tried to make me see some of them. He almost managed to, but in the end he didn't succeed, since I can be even more stubborn than he can be convincing.

Nevertheless, I still like to talk about basketball with him, and I know he likes it too. If there's one thing he can go on about for hours it's basketball. So for the rest of the car ride, he gives me a description, as accurate as you can imagine, of the last game.