I skipped a page of Feenstra’s Advanced International Trade: Theory and Evidence, before I realized nothing had processed from the prior page. I skipped back in frustration, turning the page so hard, I almost ripped it. I was having trouble concentrating which wasn’t good to say in the least because in two days, I had my first time in the course Global and Domestic Macroeconomics.
Where I had been trying to push Marilyn from my thoughts, I now had to juggle two girls in my mental state. I was still melancholy about Marilyn but after my talk with Emma earlier today, I found myself thinking about her quite a lot. She was such a happy person, it seemed unnatural. Her cheerfulness annoyed me at the same time it called to me. I knew the shroud of darkness that had overtaken me since I broke up with Marilyn, was trying to seek light again.
I tapped a random key on the computer before me and the screen illuminated so I could check the time on the lower right-hand side. The time was already eight thirty. I frowned and went back to my text. I didn’t have time for poetry. I had never been interested in poetry before so I was surprised I had the sudden urge to go to the bookshop. I didn’t budge however, trying to discipline myself to study, even though I didn’t want to. Rather, I wanted to but lacked the capacity to in my current state. I was too distracted and staring at the words in the book, even when I had just read the same paragraph three times, was doing nothing for me.
I slammed the book closed and massaged my temples. At the same time, my phone rang. My heart skipped a beat before it slowed down. My initial reaction was the anticipation that Marilyn was calling me, but I already knew it wouldn’t be her. She had made it clear she wanted nothing more to do with me and although I’d tried to win her back at first, since seeing her with Reeves, I’d stopped trying. No way she was going to choose me over Reeves. The Marilyn I had known back in high school and the start of college would have, but not this person who had consumed her.
The caller ID showed dad and although I didn’t want to talk to him per se, he was the closest thing to a family I had. I knew he felt a little betrayed because I had opted to stay in Seattle to be close to Marilyn than to move out to South Carolina with him and attend college there. I had to give him points for trying to bridge the gap between us but sometimes I wondered if it wasn’t already a little too late for that. All the traveling and moving from one state to another had sapped the life out of me as a child.
“Hello, dad,” I answered before the call could ring off.
“Son, how are things?” his booming voice came over the other end of the line. “I haven’t heard from you in a while. Is everything okay in Seattle?”
“Yeah, dad. Just trying to study,” I answered.
“Oh, I didn’t disturb you, did I?”
“It’s fine. I’m taking a break now anyway.”
“I see. Doing something with Marilyn?”
“No, dad,” I choked out.
“Well, that’s a surprise. You’re usually stuck to that girl like a fly on a horse’s tail.”
I didn’t particularly like the comparison even though I knew it was true. “We’re not together anymore.”
“Damn, are you serious?”
“Yes,” I answered, getting up from the table.
“She’s a pretty girl,” dad observed aloud. “Too bad I always thought she had a shallow side to her. You can do better than that, Travis.”
“Better than Marilyn?” I echoed in disbelief. “There’s no better than Marilyn, dad.”
“Not everything is about beauty. Find a girl with substance.”
“Okay dad,” I answered, not that I agreed with what he was saying but because I didn’t want to discuss it any further. “Anyway, I’ve to get to this poetry thing at the books shop, so I’ve to go.”
“I’ll let you go then,” he remarked, sounding disappointed. “And Travis?”
“Yes, dad?”
“Call me sometimes,” he answered. “Just because. I love you, son.”
Before I could respond, he hung up. I couldn’t believe he had just told me he loved me. I hadn’t heard those words from my father since- I couldn’t even remember when.
Feeling a little lighthearted, I decided to make good on what I told him, where I would be going. I reached for my jacket in the closet and shrugged it on. I contemplated changing my clothes but decided against it since I wasn’t trying to impress Emma or anything. I simply had nothing else to do and studying was not working out. Maybe poetry would relax me so I could return and hit the books. In any event, I couldn’t think of anything else to do so, poetry it was.
I left the dorm and strode across the campus towards the University Services Building. I passed the Sullivan Hall School of Law which was next to the University Services Building. The store usually closed at five or six but I guessed they opened Wednesdays just for the poetry reading.
This side of the university was quiet and beautiful with trees and brushes that were kept neatly trimmed. I walked up to the door and paused to read the sign that declared tonight, poetry night. I hesitated for a few seconds before I shrugged and pushed the glass door entrance open.
Happiness or sadness
To choose which to soothe thy soul
Is it better to wallow in our despair?
Than to let the hurt go?
What will you achieve with your tears?
With the angry way you speak?
A kind word will set you at ease
Give you the peace you seek
I listened to the husky voice of the girl who was standing by a lectern, reading her poem. Was it a coincidence I had walked in just when she had started her poem? I remembered what she had said about the universe having us meet for a purpose. I wasn’t sure I believed in anything, neither people, nor the universe or any higher being responsible for things in this chaotic world. Nevertheless, these coincidences happened too frequently for me to ignore it.
Hearing her poem, I flushed. I didn’t want to disturb her and she hadn’t seen me yet, so I remained where I was, listening to her words. I knew she had written about me and our earlier conversation and I felt a little angry. How could she have written about me and then bared it to everyone in the room. About two dozen people were seated in the library and listening to her.
I relaxed a little when I realized no one but us would have a clue what had inspired her little poem. I couldn’t wait to get her one side so I could admonish her still. I didn’t like her writing about me one bit and she needed to be told. Emma seemed to be a girl who knew little about boundaries. Either that or she just didn’t care.
When she finished her poem, the room thundered with applause and her dimples flashed as she took a bow. She saw me then and her mouth formed a perfect O. I felt a little better, seeing the flush of her face. She looked guilty, like she knew she shouldn’t have read that poem to the others. She cleared the podium and approached me while a girl with multicolored hair took the stand.
“Hi!” Emma cried breathlessly, coming to a stop before me. “I’m so glad you came.”
“So, I wouldn’t miss your little message?” I asked sarcastically.
She bit her lip and glanced away. “I didn’t think you’d show, although I hoped you would.”
I hung my head staring down at the floor, shrugging my shoulders. “I had nothing better to do.”
She laughed softly. “This is the better. Come on, let’s sit and listen.” She took my arm without permission and I noted that lack of boundary thing about her again. I followed her over to a seat and sat, preparing for the scrutiny. None came. I was observed with smiles, simply as a newcomer and mouthed ‘welcome’.
Emma and I didn’t talk as she was plugged into the poems that her friends were reading. Not all were happy and cheery like Emma’s but they spoke about going through emotions. I only realized after several readings that Emma hadn’t given me back my hand since she had pulled me toward a chair to sit beside her.