The college in New Orleans I was at has been shut down until the fall semester, and everyone who was able to was HIGHLY reccomended to go home. I'm on the East coast staying with my grandmother now, which I'm not too happy about. I have to stay inside for the next two weeks until I can prove my time out of state didn't infect me with something awful; Carona or otherwise. My family is paranoid like that. I ended up having to leave almost everything in my dorm when I left, and the school may or may not be throwing it all away (they won't tell me). Hoping for the best, but preparing for the worst.

The buzz of cidades brings a sound to the summer’s heat. The late afternoon heat shines down on where you lay on the hardwood floor next to me. My legs draped softly over your back as I stare up at the ceiling. Your elbows propped under you as you turn the page of your book. Thin beads of sweat collect themselves at the nape of my neck as I contemplate the comfortable stillness.

“I love you.”

The warmth in the air is reflected in your eyes as you glance away from your book to meet mine. The ghost of a smile crosses your face as you open it to say a simple, “alright.” 

You roll your head away from me and flip another page. My gaze lingers on you for one moment longer before returning to the ceiling above us.

“...I just wanted you to know.”

My journey into the world begins.  Never before has the clock ticked so loudly, a constant rhythm in the back of my mind.  The days, now split into tidy 30 minute increments, seem so short. My planner begins at 6:30, and I manage to keep up.  Lunch is at 12:30, dinner at 6:00. Meals spent in the company of family now alone or with business associates. Laughter replaced with a documentary or small talk to fill the silence.  I manage to keep up. Looking at myself in the mirror, have I always looked this tired? Has my skin always been this gaunt? My eyes this sullen? My hair this thin? I promise to treat myself better, but fail to keep up.

Laying in bed, no light peeking through the curtains, the hallway dark, I try to remember summer. The bright future magnified by the warmth of the present.  An easy stroll to wherever I please. Lining up at the starting line to a destination I didn’t know and didn’t choose. Losing everything but the footprints in front of me, sprinting to a destination I will never find.  Barely managing to match the pace of those ahead of me, almost over the horizon. Feeling my legs give out from under me, I fail to keep up. 

I learn to grow flowers.