Between Two Eternities || Travis Hamonic

(5) Tame Impala

"Emotions come and go and can't be controlled so there's no reason to worry about them."

-Nicholas Sparks, The Last Song

Matthew connected with Travis immediately. He always makes friends easily, and I envy him for that. I have spent many nights wondering how he does that so easily whereas I have the social capacity of a caterpillar. From articles on the Internet and encouragement from Jeremy, I am almost made to believe that it's just the way we were made.

But maybe it's not just the way I was made. I've had some experiences that could have turned me off to the whole idea of people. I like to think that in another life, I wasn't broken by abandonment and death.

After all, Matt and most people never had a Bobby Hurd.

People like Bobby Hurd give you hope and then steal it away like it was never yours to begin with.

Travis and Matt have been talking for hours in this locker room. I haven't been listening because I didn't want to intrude. I know I wouldn't want people listening in on my conversations. My conversations, like the rest of me, are private. I don't talk much so when I do, you must know it's important.

I imagine if I had a friend to talk with on the phone every night, I would chase Matt out of my room as he tried to listen through the door. The thought makes me think of myself in that other life again.

I've never had to chase Matt out of my room because I never had many friends, and these days I have none. I used to have a few, when my problems were insignificant in comparison to the world.

The moment I realized that I cared about my own problems more than the world, is when I became spiteful of my own self. That is where the despair of myself began and I realized how selfish I am.

Matt's laugh brings me back into the present. I wonder what was so funny, and when I focus on them, Travis is laughing but not as much as my brother. Travis looks nervous and perhaps embarrassed.

"What's so funny?" I ask tentatively.

Matt has to catch his breath before answering. "He asked if you play hockey," he chokes out, as if it's the funniest thing he's ever heard.

Now I'm embarrassed as well, Matt is practically dying from lack of oxygen, and Travis is scratching the back of his neck sheepishly. "Matt's the athletic one," I explain, staring at the blue carpet. "I, well I just suck at everything," I add. "Isn't that right, Matthew?"

Matt nods, face still red. "She can't even walk without falling over sometimes."

Thank you dear brother.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to make you feel bad or anything," Travis says, staring at me so guiltily that it forces me to look back. I smile.

One person can't change anything.
Remember it, Arden.

"No that's okay," I say. "I'm used to it."

I'm used to it because I went to high school and I wasn't a popular girl in high school.

I wasn't popular at all but it was okay because I had a more confidence in my future than my present. Today, well today I have confidence in nothing because it's been hard for me to feel anything since my parents died.

When the security guards told Travis they had to lock up, it suddenly became the end of the night.

Matt hugged Travis. Or Travis hugged Matt. I didn't see, but if I could guess I would say Matt hugged Travis. A guy hug, of course. Matt doesn't even let me hug him properly. I hadn't properly hugged anyone in years - since the funeral. That's where relatives I didn't know existed hugged me and kissed my face and told me through tears, that they were sorry. I could only stare at them in response. What were they sorry for? They weren't the ones driving the truck that smashed my parents' brains out. It's such a robotic response, and only proves that people don't think as much as they claim to care.