Seeing differently

When we left last night, my ears were still ringing from the music, and my thoughts were still collecting moments into anecdotes. Processing the details of sequins and almost fights, tiaras, and lady gaga, we headed back to your apartment.

"Do you see that guy?" you said pointing to a man walking in a parking lot outside of the tall white apartment buildings. We were a few blocks from your street. "He's the one who took off his shirt."

"I know a guy took off his shirt," I said squinting into the darkness, "But I didn't think that's him."

"It's him, it definitely is," you gave him a quick look and added "Gross."

I thought back to the guy who was on the dancefloor, and tried to compare this man with him. I remembered the shape of his body as if it were a white paper cutout, yet I was unable to fill in the details.

I thought of something to tell you. "Did you see that girl with the short hair wearing the green?" I asked. I thought this would have been enough information to tell you and have you know exactly who I was talking about.

"No, I don't think so," you replied.

"She was a really good dancer with the green shirt and a skirt," I replied filling in the details.

You said nothing, and I continued. "She danced with the drag king when she gave him money. She was a really good dancer."

"No, I didn't notice," you said.

We left these differences of perception in the street, and drank water from your kitchen. Everything was interesting and beautiful. I felt changed even though I didn't want to acknowledge this feeling for fear that I would destroy something that had started so delicately. Change starts slowly and accumulates gradually until you realize that you cannot find the veins of your former existence in your present body.

Your bones have elongated, your thoughts matured, and your desires, depending on your age, have changed subjects and become either more or less intense. Some girls I know stopped wanting pokemon cards, and longed to see sex and the city movies. When they are old, I hope they want to see sunsets more than go shopping.

I don't know how I am changing. I can't pinpoint all the little growths, like little sprouting seeds that seem to be taking root on the recent past self.

I was reading Q.E.D. today, and Helen asks Adele, "Haven't you ever stopped thinking long enough to feel?"

Helen was really asking me this, and I thought about it for a few seconds and smiled. 107 years later and I knew that I was meant to be asked this because in many ways we are the same kind of girl. Although my life is without the drama of a love triangle, we are plagued by too much thinking which gets in the way of useful things.

Again, I've started off with one thought, and ended with a completely different one.