here in my mind

I.
Ever seen such clear crisp beauty that it made you cry? I really couldn’t help it. I was sitting in a crowd. An intimate atmosphere nonetheless. And I felt my eyes go wet with mirror puddles. I was sitting on the edge of my seat, with my body uncomfortably hanging off. My head rested on my hands. And my eyes were glazed with amazement. Before me, I watched shapes fly. Right in front of me, I saw the curvature of humans do the unexpected. Right right right right before my eyes, I was watching a man and a woman dance to soulful music, and it was as if their bodies were the notes, curling each line and they would grab onto this thin white sheet that hung off the ceiling, and they would fly. Fly. Fly. They would transform their toes and ribs and shins and elbows into wings. And I was just so amazed. They were playing. They were playing with the beauty of bodies and limbs and muscles.
 
Cirque Du Soleil was more amazing than I can put into words. And for those of you who have seen it, you know what I am talking about. Your eyes and your heart go on adventure, you never expected. There was a clown riding a bicycle on the ceiling. There were people jumping up on beds and jumping so high, they would do flips and tricks. A little lady, was attached to humongous balloons and she was thrown into the audience and she squealed as everyone pushed her from the bottom of her shoes. And the music. Oh the music. It gets your blood pumping and goosebumps running. It was amazing amazing amazing.
 
II.
How do you deal with never? How do you deal with death? How do you accept the fact that you will never see him again? I cant. And there is nothing that can be done about it. It is as if at any moment, Jack will show with that silly joking smile and say it was just a practical joke. He’s not really dead.
 
The memorial was the other day. It wasn’t what I expected. A small group of us stood outside in the secret gardens of WPI. A boy sang a letter to Jack in heaven. Another girl said how much Jack influenced her life. A girl cried over a poem. A boy talked about a spiritual moment. And then everyone took turns describing how silly Jack was. Stories about getting to the roof of Walmart, of middle of the night drives to the casino, of crashing cars, of shoes…so many stories. And it was the most incredible thing. People started laughing. And I thought. How perfect. Jack is not even here, and he is making a whole group of people roll with laughter. He can make people laugh, even when he is not alive. And. And. And.
 
Sometimes. I wonder. This unfairness in life. Why? Why do the good souls always perish?
 
His parents were there. And I wanted to hug them tight, even though I had never met them before. Liz started talking to Jack’s dad. We all stood around in a circle, awkwardly. In those few moments, I could tell Jack’s dad is one of those calm, sweet, charming, men. And there he was talking about caskets and a tombstone for his son.
 
III.
Someone asked me. “How was your week?” And I couldn’t remember. I couldn’t remember which week was this week. Minutes and hours and days and weeks are running into each other. They are blending together. And in reality, all I want to do is just jump on the pointy hands of the clock. I want to jump back back back back. I want to jump back to a moment. I want to jump back to the moment where I was held in Alex’s arms. And maybe it’s not even Alex’s. I just. Need to be held. I need to cuddle. I need a man with a deep voice, and warm strong body. And I need to curl up in all of his protection and safety. I can then pretend that there is no such thing as time. I can then feel less scattered. Just. Simple. Cuddling.
 
IV.
Music is my drug. I get high. Flogging Molly concert was no different. We jumped so much, our ankles hurt. It was as if each ounce of the blood in my veins was thumping to the beats of the drums, guitar and violin. My body was not mine anymore. We got swallowed up in the crowd of everyone else, and it almost scared me, because I had no control. Everyone moved together. We tried not to get hurt [Liz got a fat lip]. And when a truly irish tune started up, we’d pretend we were from riverdance. Or we’d grab each other, and skip around in circles, arm in arm. I forgot about everything. And sometimes it is good to forget.
 
V.
Ive been feeling sad. Dave invited me to his wedding in December. “I really want to go, but I don’t think I can,” I told Liz. And after a few seconds of silence she replied, “Well, I guess this just shows how unreal friendships are online. You cant even go to each other’s weddings.” And this all makes me cry. Because Dave and I met here on OD about 5 years ago? God, I don’t remember, it’s been so long. We’re good to each other. We care. We know each other in a way, that others don’t know us. But. Here we are. After countless conversations on emails, and phone calls, and msn chats, I cant even witness one of the most important things in his life.
 
What are these friendships that we’re forming online? How real are they? What is real? How much can you depend on them? How much do you really know about each other? Why do we form these friendships?
 
VI.
I am looking at what I can do after I graduate. Clinical research, sounds exciting, no? I got into an argument with my brother about it. He claims I should be going for a phd in neuroscience. But how can I tell him that I don’t want anymore education? I am tired of people telling me what I should and shouldn’t learn. I want to learn my own things. I am tired of the system. I need a break. A pause to breathe and look around and see what there is in life. Clinical research assistant will pay crap, I know this. And it may not be what I want to do with my life. But for right now, I am happy to do clinical research in my life. I want to care about patients. I want to solve the big questions. I don’t to write out my plans for life for the next 20 years. I don’t know what I will want to do next weekend, how can I plan for 20 years in advance? Why do people expect me to do it?
 
VII.
 
I love this.
[I love taking pictures of it]