Just Jump Outta Bed

My alarm went off in Muse's "Starlight" this morning at 7:00 a.m. I jumped out of the bed... quite literally because that's the best way to wake up. Just jump out of the bed! If you're not truly awake yet, then hitting your head on the closest object will probably jolt you awake! ...Or send you into unconsciousness. I'm pretty sure that counts as an excused absence so you're still in the clear.

At 8:05, I crawled sleepily into English 102 with one of my boys, "Billy," and we sit through a tedious lecture from a rambling man about how the class was going to go. I must be prepared for the awesome work load he will bestow upon us. With one other English class and two Communications courses plus a job at the newspaper, I'm going to be swimming in Microsoft Word documents! O_O

At 9:05, I arrived in Writing for Mass Media taught by Mrs. Mass Media herself. Her husband, Mr. Mass Media, also teaches at Western Carolina and runs the Communications department. Mrs. Mass Media, who I'm sure I'll get to know as well as my mom, is not only my personal academic advisor but also the head of the journalism department (a.k.a. my concentration). I have a good feeling about Mrs. Mass Media.

At 10:10, I have a prune-ish looking woman come in dressed in head to toe in deep purple to tell us in a flighty stance how we're going to be learning about poetry first in Intro to Literature, a class for my minor of Creative Writing. My intuition tells me I might not always find the class so interesting because of this professor's stammering and sudden thoughtlessness, but I wasn't going to immediately drop the class. More than likely, I wouldn't be able to get into a different section that went with my schedule.
A break for lunch then a rather suave-seeming gentleman enters my Interpersonal Communications classroom, which I had originally thought Mrs. Mass Media would be teaching. The Joker, who enjoys starting every class with a joke or two today's being "What did the fish say when he ran into the wall" and I finished for him "Dam," was a casual guy with a twitch about his hands. Every word with emphasized with a hand gesture. You know, he doesn't seem the type, but if one day he announced he was gay, I wouldn't be surprised at all. Not because of the hand gestures, but also because he wears no wedding band and I get these really strong vibes about people. I don't have a swelled head, but I'm usually right.
The entire day I was on the lookout for The Viking. It was only a matter of time before I ran into him, I knew that, but throughout the day... nothing! I wasn't thrilled. I wanted to get it over with, but it was nice. Then after Intro to Lit, a familiar-looking girl sidles up beside me as we head down the staircase.
"Hey, aren't you friends with "The Viking"?"
I was completely caught off guard and after stumbling and mumbling for about thirty seconds in which the girl says his full name as if I were trying to think if I knew this person to which she referred, I finally managed, "Um... it's... um, it's complicated. We're not f-f-friends anymore though."
The poor thing saw I was obviously flustered and probably a bit pale and immediately apologized.
"No, no, it's ok. Please, it's ok," but I didn't know if I was assuring her or myself
We parted with smiles, and I think I will enjoy her company in the future. As long as her friend The Viking stays far away.
After classes were over, I headed to the book store to get one that wasn't a rental happy and ready to kick back at the apartment. I had survived the day. The Viking wasn't in any of my classes. I hadn't seen him or his girlfriend or her roommate and life was sweet. I exited McKee with one of my friends talking about when who came around the corner! The Viking! I immediately spotted him. It's hard to miss that cloud of fiery red hair.

I cannot describe the icy rocket that shot through my stomach, down my shaking knees, and into my feet. But, I continued to walk as normal, talking to my friend, and we crossed paths. I didn't make eye contact, but I know he saw me! And we passed like we were complete strangers never to have met, never to have conversed, never to have hugged, never to have kissed, never to have made promises to each other. I can't think of anything sadder or more breath-stealing than passing the one who you knew so intimately and.... Even now, a summer past since we last spoke, I tried not to let the tears start when he walked behind me. I try to ignore the emptiness in the boys' conversations when they purposefully leave his name out saying "Adam's room" when it's really Adam and The Viking's dorm room. Driving back to the apartment after jury duty, I had this horrible, vivid flash that Cody, The Viking's roommate last year, could have possibly invited him over to check out the place and I would walk in and see him there... and I began to suddenly sob and shake so badly while driving down the highway just a minute away from the apartment. I was about to pull  over. I probably should have.

This has to stop eventually! Please, it must stop sometime. But I dwell on everything, anything like it's the most important detail, piece of information that I could soak up when it is so insignificant. What makes it more difficult is that everyone else knows it's insignificant and makes me feel wretched for paying attention to it the way I do. But that's me. I can't help it... but I can't keep living (or not living because it doesn't feel like I'm living, I wasn't "living" this summer) like this.