1:11 a.m. - April 13, 2002
good summer memories
This morning was awesome, because I was barely awake when Nikki called, happy and perky at the ungodly hour of eleven-thirty in the morning. 'What are you doing today? Wanna drive to Madison?' So we drove to Madison. Three hours there, three back, and two spent there, but somehow it still managed to be worth it, other than an unfortunate occurence having to do with O'Hare airport. My favorite moment, or at least the only one I can still remember clearly at one in the morning, was on the way back, me driving her car, bouncing in time to 'Witch Doctor' and singing at the top of our lungs, as the sun came out from behind a cloud and flooded the roads reflective. I love spontaneity.

This all reminds me of summer nights when the only curfew was when we thought we could sneak past our parents (and not schoolwork, work-work, sports, irate relatives, or anything else, like during the year), but actually we never thought about curfew; it wasnt important.

There's one night I remember particularly clearly from summer that I might have written about here then, but I probably didn't and if I did it doesn't matter, because, as I thought as I wrote that sentence, it must not have been one night, but two nights remembered as one, because Erik and Ashley went to the beach after we played Frisbee in the street, but somehow he was still with us at Grant's when we got there, and Ashley wasn't. We were going to watch Dogma, but then they found Radiohead tickets online and started gibbering around wondering if they should buy them, and whether they'd be in town, and what would take priority, Erik coming with me to California or going with Grant to see Radiohead? (as it turned out, Radiohead won, but only as the fault of airline prices, we like to think.) Anyway, he left early with Nikki to spend some time with Ashley, and as they walked down the hall, I felt this ripping inside my chest like the kind I used to get when my mom asked me whether I wanted to go to the museum or stay home; the ripping of the knowing I had to make a quick choice and it felt like the end of the world if I made the wrong one, only it wasn't, and it didn't matter, but I only stared at Grant for about thirty seconds, eyes tearing up, before I mumbled some shaky apology or excuse and took off running after them, stopping Nikki's car at the gate. I dragged Nikki to a corner because she already knew, and Erik couldn't know, even though he already did. I drove him home instead; they thought I needed someone to make sure I stayed awake. My eyes leaked the whole way there and I remember biting halfway through the side of my finger every time he asked what was wrong, and the more I didn't tell him, the more I bit through my finger. Until I went into spasms somewhere on Lake Street, pulled over, yanked the latch on my seat, and lay there, hyperventilating, wishing, insanely, that I had a moonroof; if I had a moonroof, everything would be okay and I wouldn't mind if Erik went back to Ashley and I stayed at Grant's in Glenview. By then it was no secret that it bothered me, 'oh, she'll never get over him, will she?' and the answer was 'no, no, no, no..' and I always thought I never would. It's that I never wanted to leave him, the only person I could act raw to the bone around, no shields, because, you know, once someone's seen you at your worst, there's nowhere to go but up. And he says I've grown so much but maybe I'm just better at hiding it. And maybe I don't cry over him anymore because I refuse to think about him, knowing that letting go is a slow process, and when is college? 4 months? and I'm just so tired of it all, the preconceptions and the habits and the reputation and the falling asleep. I'm very tired.

And somehow tonight still brings back good summer memories...

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