Guess That Is How I Know You

Chapter VI

March 8, 2016

I wonder if people ever felt like they were hit by a tsunami, I mean, I know there are a shit ton of people who have literally been hit by one.

I guess what I am trying to figure out is, have they ever met someone who is just like one? So much so that this tsunami-person can make them feel like the air was knocked off their lungs and now everything inside burns as if they took one long breath of salty water.

It might seem like I am rambling here, but this mess of thoughts represents how I'm currently feeling, and whatever these feelings are, all I know is they leave me feeling like I am less.

To begin with, yesterday was an odd day.

The beginning of my morning was not all that Important, so I am just gonna skip the waking up foreplay.

I did take a huge amount of time to choose an outfit, but in the end, I was satisfied with myself, I knew I looked good—I intended to do so at least—with a navy-blue short-sleeve dress that ended just above my knees and ankle-lengths moccasin-boots along with my matching hobo bag, I felt like I could rule the world.

I knew I had an itinerary that morning, so by 7:20am I found myself knocking on Professor Bailey's door, even though in that moment I felt she would most likely make us both late—and I was not half wrong.

It did not take long for her to open the door and as she did, she uttered she would only be a minute as she rushed me in.

I helped myself to the couch where I had witnessed her breakdown just the day before, and as I looked around, I could definitely see the changes all over the living room.

The huge frame with the family picture was gone and a slightly smaller one of Cecilia was replacing it. With the Trevi Fountain as background, she looked younger and more carefree than I had ever seen, and I had seen the woman dirt biking.

There was nothing in the living room that screamed children anymore-I had noticed a few toys laying around the prior day.

Even the smaller frames that were scattered all over on Sunday seemed to be gone.

Out of all those details, the thing that got my attention the most was the frame on the wall. The professor seemed younger, I could no longer see any wrinkles on the end of her eyes, there were no bags under them as well and they seemed almost a golden color with the sunlight hitting them. Her hair was shorter and darker, with the apparent wind blowing on it, revealing a carefree aura that seemed to be overflowing her.

The baby-blue long-sleeve shirt under a white baggy trouser with paint all over it, made her look more like one of those hippie painters who sell their art at park, beaches and fairs than the successful law professor with impeccable record everyone seemed to faint over.

It was quite hard to take my eyes off the framed younger Cecilia. She was sucking me in. My eyes only diverted their attention from the picture when the clumsy professor herself passed me by as she ran around to get her things.

Her display served to confirm it would take a lot more than just one minute.

After 10 minutes or so she had her belonging in hands, crossing the corridor that led to the bedrooms as she adjusted her heels with her free hand.

I do not know how people are able to do that without falling down, as a matter of fact, she came close to it, but the tight walls from the corridor kept her from landing on her ass, I recall inquiring if she was always that clumsy, to which she only answered with her middle finger—guess she's not much of a morning person.

We were driving to campus and I was surprised we would get there early, not as early as I had intended, but still early enough that I would be able to choose my seat.