Ambiguity and Pretentiousness

I was not addicted. Not in the traditional sense. I wasn’t hung over or crazed for some pill, although I suppose the pills were the catalyst for my entire predicament. I’m having a little trouble really finding the right words for my story, but I’ll do the best I can.

I believe it started on a Friday. Yes, Friday sounds right. It started off as a relatively normal day. The sun was shining, the grass was green, the birds chirped as I walked to school, and the air smelled of winter. Leaves were dead, people were wrapped in too many layers to count, and I walked to school with the same clothes I always wore. Jeans, a T-shirt, and a jacket. And a belt. Always the same belt. Be it rain or shine, shorts or jeans, it didn’t even matter if they fit or not, I wore a belt nonetheless.

As I walked to school, I could see the air coming out of my mouth.

I paid close attention to every step I made. Right foot after left, and repeat.

I wasn’t a huge fan of music at the time. It instilled too many emotions for my taste. So I walked on in silence, with no entertainment but the sound of my feet against the pavement.

My appeal to emotions was a somewhat paradoxical relationship. I didn’t care for them, yet they came so naturally to me. It seemed as though it was in my own nature to love a complete stranger, but any other external thought that tried to implant its own idea into my head, I rejected. As if it was hijacking my mind.

I suppose I should mention the important part of that day. This Friday, as I understand it, was not really the beginning of the story. More of the end of the beginning, but I also assume that I am intrinsically an optimistic. But the end. Yes, I guess that is what it was, on that Friday.

I entered the schoolyard, and headed to my class. I didn’t care for school much. It wasn’t too easy, or too hard. I achieved all A’s rather easily and my teachers were fine. It must have been the social aspect of the entire experience. Having to be exposed to the rest of the future delinquents and their friends is not a favorable existence. My life revolved on not knowing whether or not I could eat lunch in the same spot every day in peace. In my most diluted state, when I had nothing else to think about, that would be what my mind deferred itself to. Where will I eat lunch tomorrow?

As lunch began, I made my way to my usual spot, and it was occupied. I noticed some minors sitting under the tree, yelling and pushing each other around. I was agitated. More than that, I was nostalgic. I wanted that same sense of belonging that I had just had a few weeks ago. My life had been completed by the emotions I had been deprived of my entire life. But as I took one step farther, my head throbbed. Just once. I stopped. As did my head. I took one more step. Another surge of pain. It emanated from the center and radiated until it filled every corner, every last spot under my skull. I felt pain. As a mammal that enjoys acting off of his baser urges, I wanted pleasure. More specifically, I needed relief from the sudden onset of intense ache.

There was only one thing that came to mind that would cure my dilapidating mindset. Painkillers. And a heavy dose of them at that. With each step my head surged once more, each step causing more and more pain. I needed to get my cure, but I wasn’t sure where. My first thought was the office. But with each step I took there, the more convinced I was they would not have what I needed. I imagined a nurse, allowing me to lie down for a little while, or even worse, signing a note, allowing me to go home for the rest of the day. I needed to avoid that. My house was not really a home. My parents were no more parents than Santa is real. My father would rather sit and watch television all day than work, whereas my mom could disappear for days on end, without leaving a note or even enough food in the house to last me more than a few hours. Yes, school was where I belonged, but only in the sense that I didn’t belong any more anywhere else.

As I was saying, my headache grew worse, and I needed something. Anything. I didn’t care who it was from. But on top of that, I had no idea where to get my relief from. I turned away from the office, towards the path of least resistance. I hesitated, and decided to head back to my tree, to see if eating there was at all possible. With each footstep, the pain grew, building on top of itself, doubling after each step. I didn’t know what to do. But my brain seemed to. As each new nerve in my brain was activated from pain, I was directed by my feet towards the opposite side of campus. Towards the only other relief I knew of.

A new step, a new corner of the brain crammed with pain. Finally I reached my destination. But there was a problem. Sociality. I would be forced to talk with another person, and it just had to be her. Approaching her, I saw that her back was to me. Her friends were arranged in a semi circle, and none of them saw me as I neared the gathering. I wasn’t quite sure if I wanted to do this, but my feet had another way of talking. As did the rest of my body. My hand reached up and tapped her on her shoulder. It was more of a poke really. At first she must have thought it was something on her shoulder. She rubbed it, as if to push something off, to rid her body of the new irritant. Having felt nothing on her shoulder, she turned to me. Her face was not quite stunned, but it was apparent that she was surprised to see me.

I pulled her aside and asked, “Hey, can we talk for a minute like two normal people?”

“I’m not sure,” She replied begrudgingly, “Can we?”



“Can we?”

“It would be hard to see things any other way if the situation turns sour.”

“I don’t care. I’m not very good at ignoring”

“Ignoring what?”

“Does it matter?”

“I suppose not. Why me?”

“Who else?”

“I’m not sure”



“I’m not sure”

“My name is Hannah.”

“Charmed.”

“Likewise.” I suppose that was the beginning. Or as close to the beginning as I can think of. I realize the irreversibility of the story, but this is as best as I remember it, so it is the way I must tell it. We met that day. I don’t remember the day, but I remember everything else about it. The wind blew through the trees as naturally as water flows in a river. The sun shone brightly overhead, warming the day more and more as it rose higher and higher.

I continued on my walk with Hannah, in silence. Neither of us said anything, and the discomfited sense in the air was almost palpable. Neither of us wanted to break the ice, nor could we think of any reason to want to talk any further, but my tongue decided my fate for me.

“So how are you doing on this fine morning?” I asked her, with more skill and finesse than I knew I owned. I then looked at her. She was quite pretty. Not that I really cared. Because I didn’t care. Not really. But the refined attraction, subtle as it was, that brought me closer to her confused me to say the least. She looked back at me, and smiled rather hesitantly, almost forced.

“I am doing rather well.” And then a pause. “I just really don’t want to go to school today.” She replied, looking back ahead of her.

“If you don’t mind me asking, why?”

“No particular reason. I just don’t really like school.” One of those people. Her character, in my eyes, was already stained by the mere idea that she didn’t like school just for the sake of not liking school. If ever there was a reason to resent someone, it was because of their forced indoctrination. But while the beauty was faint, the attraction was obvious. I wished to no longer talk to her, but I couldn’t help myself. My brain, as well as my so called heart, wanted more.

“Yeah, I know what you mean. I would so much rather be home right now.” Already I was lying to her to impress her. And what would this lie really mean to her? She hears it every day, from multiple people, how am I any different? So why would I say it?

“I have much better stuff to be doing right now.”

“Like what?” Once more, a question escaped my mouth. I really could not care less about what she wanted to do instead of school, as anyone does anything in any given situation, and I’ve never cared about those activities, so why now?

“Well I really enjoy crocheting and sewing, especially while watching movies.”

“You have a favorite movie?”

“Of course. The Graduate.”

“That’s a classic.” Once more, a silence in the air. Not a word was spoken, and the only noise was that of our shoes against the pavement and my breathing. I could see the cold air hang onto the stillness until it inevitably evaporated into the surrounding environment, never to be seen again. I tried to be as silent as I could, in my steps and my breathing, but still I could not hear her breathe. I glanced over. She walked so daintily, so lady-like, and so strongly. I could see the rise and fall of her chest, as if she were making an art out of it. Her breath was silent, her form resilient, and her body womanly. I looked away from her, feeling as though I were staring. After all, I did just meet her.

I looked back at her. She returned the favor. Our eyes met, and I felt only one emotion. It wasn’t as much as an emotion as it was a state of being. Uncomfortable. That was it. Until I thought of something to say. And as soon as it came to mind, I said it. “Are you trying to seduce me?”

Again, a silence. And then, hope. The sun rising. A rush of ecstasy. She smiled. Her smile widened until it consumed her face. And then she laughed. We both laughed. And at that, we entered the school, having to separate because of our entirely separate schedules. And that was that.

But in reality, that was not that. It was not over, not by a long shot. Hannah’s lure was unimportant, insignificant, even trivial, yet it was there. It existed. I wasn’t quite sure how, but it manifested itself within my brain, and just was.

So there you have it. The beginning. Or how I see it anyway. The next part of the story is much more emotional, or my idea of emotional, and it gets weird. Not weird in the sense of bizarre, but just in the fact that I changed. And I will leave it at that. The next part begins the very next week. Even though I am reluctant to do so, I will provide some background in order to shed more light on the contents of that week.

We walked to school with each other each day. Every day we met up at the same spot, and we continued onto school from there. Two of the days we said nothing to each other, we merely exchanged glances at the beginning and continued in silence until we were forced to split. The other three we had lively conversations about what she liked to do and just who she was in general. Apparently she was a Pisces, her favorite color was green, she enjoyed swimming, shopping, and, as mentioned before, watching movies. The facts were so trivial, so meaningless to me, but at the same time, I hung onto her every word. I didn’t care about what she did over her weekend, but I couldn’t keep myself from asking her. I didn’t want to, but I did. I did anything I felt was necessary. And then, after five days of walking with her, she wasn’t there.

It was the same time. And it was most definitely the same location. I checked my watch several times to make sure I was where I should be, when I should be. I tried to remember if we had today off of school or not, but seeing all of the cars pull into the parking lot of the school in the distance, I decided that school was most likely in session that day. After a minute I continued on my way, disappointed. I would not share the company of the illustrious woman that had grown to be my friend.

I started toward the school, and that was when the headache began. With each step that drew me further away from the spot of which we would always meet, my pain grew more. I turned back to see if she was there, with no luck. I turned back. I walked ten more steps when I was tapped on the shoulder, and there she was.

“Sorry, I woke up late and had to hurry to get ready. I notice you didn’t wait for me.”

“Oh yeah, I waited for a minute and when you didn’t come I assumed you were sick or something along those lines. Did your alarm just not go off or…?” At that, I trailed off. The pain in my head was still growing. I held my head up in my hands, and she stopped, setting down her backpack.

“Wait a minute,” She said, “Hold my books for a second.” I took her books as he reached into her backpack and pulled out a travel sized Advil container. “Take two of these.”

I auspiciously accepted the pills, and immediately swallowed them, not needing water. I thanked her, and we continued on our way.

Another week passed by. We had our fair share of conversation in the morning. I even got to add in a few details about myself; although I was more concerned with learning all that I could about her than I was about sharing details about myself. I didn’t care for myself. I didn’t even really like my name. I didn’t mind hearing my name, but anytime I said it aloud, it just didn’t sound right. I had to fight my tongue to really get it out.

It was about three weeks after we first met that I wanted. What I wanted I was not entirely sure of, but my heart pained for something it clearly did not have. I met up with Hannah that morning and I started the conversation like any other day.

“It is quite cold out here is it not?”

“It most certainly is. How is it-” But I cut her off.

“OK, if I don’t say this now, than I never will.” I began. My heart began to race. A sensation I was new to, and I did not enjoy it at all. I’m still not entirely sure what made me interrupt her the way I did. I could have said it at any other time. If there was one thing I had, it was time. But still, I continued. “Do you… want to eat something sometime?” She only stared at me. I knew immediately I had not said what I wanted to. “I mean, will you…do something with me? A date, if you will.”

And she continued to look at me. Her look of confusion had faded, and it was replaced with, not happiness as I had hoped for, but a humbled state. She was clearly not expecting the question. “Do you really want to do that?” She asked. I looked forward once more. I didn’t want to hear what she was about to say. “I mean…can we?” She asked.

I pondered her question for just a second. “Can we?” I said, repeating her question to myself, as if it would help me come up with an answer. But before I could say something, anything definitive, she started up again. But I didn’t hear what she was saying, not entirely. I responded with the fullest of heart and sincerity. Her questioning had said no, but the look on her face as she talked to me slowly changed. A smile formed, and she just looked ahead of her, towards where she was going. After a few seconds, even she had nothing left to say.

I was happy, in that moment.

A stone. A pond. A ripple. The ripple was calm, gradual, and purposeful. But the stone to cause it was motionless, an unreal reality. Once more, a ripple in the water. And this one had less beauty. Once more, a ripple. And again. With each new disturbance the waves grew bigger, the pulchritude fading, until the headache of a thousand lullabies woke me from my diluted state.

And I was still standing there, in front of Hannah. She was waiting for my answer. I didn’t think we could, but at the same time, one never knows what the answer will be if you don’t really have control of your own body. I shrugged with as much self-assurance as I could muster, and I just looked at her with a blank stare. I asked for the Advil, and she handed them to me. I swallowed them, and walked away. I looked back at her, wishing for hope. She was still looking at me, and our eyes met. I smiled, ever so faintly. And she returned the smile.