My head against the glass window of my car, I can’t help but smile. Any other day of the week I’d be cursing the traffic, out of state drivers and any traffic signal on the all of one mile stretch of street between St. John’s University and the Verrazano Bridge. And yet strangely, I’m calm. The person in the passenger seat of the car next to me unfortunately caught in the same gridlock traffic gazes, wondering if I am at all sane, and if those of my status should be given a license to drive on the New York streets. My normal countenance has escaped me, and yet, as I begin to wonder where it has gone to, the thought leaves me. The stresses of the previous few days of constant supervision and observation of superintendents at the school are gone, and regular activities should be given to my class, rather than the hodgepodge entertainment my partner and myself have been forced to create on the previous two days. But today, today was different. Today was Wednesday.
Wednesdays usually bring a certain eclectic air to my usually troubled work week aura. Knowing that there are only two days left of the week, I am given a certain false hope that it will all fly past me, and I’ll suddenly find myself on Friday night at ease. I become uneasily aware of the fact that while I’ve been living in my thoughts, I’ve managed to mount the bridge, letting the accompanied anxiety and nerves seep out of my body. Somewhere, lost in my thoughts, I hear the hum of my radio crooning a love ballad. Our ballad. Or at least the ballad I’d like to consider to be ours. My body has a strange reaction to this new catalyst- this formation of words that seems to perfectly describe the complex rivets of emotion I feel.
And while I am aware that Chris Browns’ “With You” is not the most romantic choice to describe us, the Wednesday afternoons where I sat cross-legged with Steven singing our hearts out as our gym class continued without us causes my entire solid composition to reduce to nothing more than a puddle of emotions. My heart flutters, and I could feel myself fluster as I recall a memory that had meant so much to me, and must be long forgotten by my counterpart. My expedition home has now become nothing more than a mad rush to just have the plain and simple courtesy of being able to gaze into his eyes. My body pulls my brain into the reality that I am forced to live in, I bid farewell to the other half of me- my world of beauty that I can only visit and not reside. I walk into work, his smiling face my only mental image as my paradise is ripped from me with the latest update from my boss “Alyssa, Steve’s out today- there’s no gym.”
Wednesdays usually bring a certain eclectic air to my usually troubled work week aura. Knowing that there are only two days left of the week, I am given a certain false hope that it will all fly past me, and I’ll suddenly find myself on Friday night at ease. I become uneasily aware of the fact that while I’ve been living in my thoughts, I’ve managed to mount the bridge, letting the accompanied anxiety and nerves seep out of my body. Somewhere, lost in my thoughts, I hear the hum of my radio crooning a love ballad. Our ballad. Or at least the ballad I’d like to consider to be ours. My body has a strange reaction to this new catalyst- this formation of words that seems to perfectly describe the complex rivets of emotion I feel.
And while I am aware that Chris Browns’ “With You” is not the most romantic choice to describe us, the Wednesday afternoons where I sat cross-legged with Steven singing our hearts out as our gym class continued without us causes my entire solid composition to reduce to nothing more than a puddle of emotions. My heart flutters, and I could feel myself fluster as I recall a memory that had meant so much to me, and must be long forgotten by my counterpart. My expedition home has now become nothing more than a mad rush to just have the plain and simple courtesy of being able to gaze into his eyes. My body pulls my brain into the reality that I am forced to live in, I bid farewell to the other half of me- my world of beauty that I can only visit and not reside. I walk into work, his smiling face my only mental image as my paradise is ripped from me with the latest update from my boss “Alyssa, Steve’s out today- there’s no gym.”
