A Search for Paradise

If there’s one thing I learned about myself, it's that I'm guilty of spilling all of my feelings over text, then pretending like I never said anything. It's a terrible habit; I knew eventually I'd end up telling Noah something about my life, no matter how mysterious I was trying to be. Noah was one of those guys that just made me want to spill my life story, and I'm pretty sure that if I ever did send him one of my stupid 1 a.m. emotional blurbs, he'd think I was a crazy. That was why I stayed away from guys with warm understanding eyes and big genuine smiles. It was almost 2 a.m., and generally I would be asleep deep in a Nyquil induced slumber, but I'd run out of Nyquil and gas money simultaneously. So here I was, hair in a messy bun with my phone sitting criss-cross on my bed. Noah was a fast texter, and I was trying to keep the subject on him, so he wouldn't ask me about myself. Though I was also trying not to be nosey and pry into his life, and I realized I'd have to do one or the other, or I'd end up just not texting back.

For the most part, the conversation was pretty superficial. We talked about a large spectrum of things, mostly music and school, safe subjects, but when Noah asked about my parents I told the truth; the absolute truth that even I myself hadn't even accepted as truth. I was hurting so bad, and I missed them. I missed hugs before I went to bed, and eating home cooked meals, and I missed spontaneous trips to the lake, and star gazing. Hell, I missed a simple "How was your day at school?” I hated how whenever I tried to talk to them, they yelled at me about being selfish, about trying to make everything about me. It hurt.

By the time I hit send, my eyes were blurry, and I wished for that Nyquil, or maybe a loaded gun. I'd be over it in the morning, but something about 2 in the morning made me hurt way more than I usually did. Four white walls doing nothing to console me; it was also far too late to take a bubble bath or bake fatty foods. Noah texted back, my heart raced. What if he thought I was dumping all my feelings on him? I didn't want him to think I was one of those people. You know the ones that make everyone they talk to, their personal therapists? When I opened the text, I learned a lot more about Noah about how his parents had split and his mom spent all day getting drunk and/or high. If she was even there at all; he felt the same way I did. Then his mom almost died. She stopped drinking and doing drugs, but she was still pretty detached from everything; like women who get post-partum depression, and end up not connecting to the child like they should. Except Noah was twelve when it happened, he said he thought things would never get better, but they did gradually. He thinks the same will happen for me, but the thing is, I'm eighteen. I'll be leaving home soon (my parents probably wont even notice I'm gone) and that'll completely obliterate any chance of fixing what they've ruined. Also with all the resentment I have built up, I'm not even sure I really want to fix things with them.

I'm really crying now, I text him back about how sorry I am that, that happened to him and how I hope his mom is able to reattach herself to real life. I make the whole conversation about him again, because I can't bear it. It's like being in an ocean, conversations are, it started out at the surface floating on my back then I went under deeper and deeper, but I have to come up for air at some point or I'll die. In real life, I won't die, if I kept the conversation at a deep personal level, but I felt like I was drowning. I'm assuming Noah either falls asleep or grows uninterested because his texts get slower, then they stop completely. I never went to sleep that night, I just tossed and turned and pray that my parents remember that I need money for gas in the morning.

They don't and I have to ask my mom to put money on my card. Maybe I'm spoiled because my parents give me money every week. Maybe that makes me a brat. Maybe I should get a job to show them that I don't need their money, but if I’m being perfectly honest, if I had to be around people all day at school, then at work, I'd probably turn into a drooling vegetable. I know eventually I'll have to get a job and become a functioning member of society, but I figure I have the rest of my life for that, so for now I'll keep siphoning money from my parents, and spending it almost exclusively on pot, gas money, and Nyquil.

I'd almost forgotten that I spilled a good portion of my life to Noah, until our eyes met briefly in the hall. Though I didn't necessarily blush, I did feel stupid for telling him all of that, and I felt unworthy, thinking about all the stuff about his mom that he'd spilled to me. I didn't have lunch with him today, but he caught me on my way out of the school (yes I'm still skipping P.E.) "Hey," he said. I jumped; I hadn't expected him to be waiting. Usually I'd just meet him at the park. "Hello," I said, smiling. I hadn't been planning on going to the park today, I was actually going to go try the new Doritos Locos taco from Taco Bell, but I guess it could wait. The first thing I noticed when we started the drive was that I had in fact resorted back to not saying anything. I couldn't think of anything to say not after spilling my guts, so I put in my Never Mind CD, and let the music fill the car. Noah smiled big, and wow he could invoke world peace with that smile. The ride got less silent, Noah was singing, fucking singing, and not only was he singing, but he was singing well. The song was "Come as You Are" coincidentally my second favorite Nirvana song, (first being Sappy) he stopped after he noticed I was not so subtly staring with my jaw open. Had an elephant walked in the road, I would've fucking plowed right into it, because I was not paying attention to the road in the slightest. Noah picked at his fingernails, "I didn't know you sang," I said. He shrugged; I made a mental note that he did that a lot. "I guess," he mumbled. "Other than Kurt himself; that was the best I've heard that song sang," I crooned, like some 12 year old girl. Maybe I was exaggerating for the sake of Noah's self confidence, but it must’ve worked, because Noah was smiling again. I didn't even need to look at him to know he was smiling. It's like the fucking air shifted in the car when he smiled.

When we got to the park, Noah suggested that we go to the swings, which honestly, I thought was a bad idea, since they were rusted beyond recognition. I still ran after him though; when he bolted from the car like five-year-olds. If this were a movie, I would've done some graceful trip and landed on top of him, and we would've kissed, but this wasn't a movie. What actually happened was by the time I got to the swing, I was embarrassingly winded from the jog. I played it off as if my lungs weren't burning, I was careful when I sat on the swing, scared it might disintegrate from being old and rusted, but even though it was so creaky, that we almost had to yell to communicate, it held up quite well.

"So, I'm going to Taco Bell to try out the new taco. You want to come with?" I asked. It was out of the blue, but I'd turned the thought over in my head since I'd gotten in my car, maybe it was because I was starving. "Dude, yeah!" Noah said excitedly. Though, I was really trying to force myself to believe that I didn't have a crush. Seeing someone get equally excited about Taco Bell as I did, made me want to stop by the closest engagement ring store on the way. When we got there, I offered to buy the meal, because it’s not like I did anything of value with my money anyway. Noah agreed, but he seemed embarrassed about it. I'd like to make him feel better, but I didn't know how besides being embarrassed myself, which came later, when I finished a taco in two bites. I'm sure the noises of bliss that followed after I finished the taco, only made things worse. "It’s good isn't it?" he said finishing off his taco. I nodded, wiping the grease that slipped down my chin. Wow! I was fucking disgusting, you'd think I'd try to eat all dainty, like an actual girl, but this wasn't even possible for me.

I dropped Noah off at his house. For the first time, he leaned over the cup holder and wrapped his arms around me. Man, did I try to hug back, but I ended up hitting him in the throat. He acted like it didn't hurt that bad, but I know it did. "Fuck…" I muttered. Noah busted into laughter. The first actual hysterical laughter, I'd heard from him, since I'd known him. I didn't feel like he was laughing at me, I felt like he was laughing at the situation. I ended up laughing too, he wiped his eyes "Looks like were both equally bad at hugging," he said. I nodded "Cursed from birth," I said smiling as if that wasn't the stupidest response I could've possibly formulated. He nodded "Yeah, cursed from birth," he shot me a grin. Then he was gone, backpack over his shoulder, making his way to his house. Even though I'd completely fucked up that hug, it was still a hug.

I could still smell his cologne, something earthy and I knew that it'd be burned into my memory, only to invoke some nostalgia later on in my life.