When she got to college, she gained some weight. Lost some weight. Hated some people. Loved some people. Wished for death. Wished for life. But overall, she lived so that things would average out, and she could maintain, let’s say, some sort of equilibrium.

She found friends worth her time. With them, she celebrated birthdays, visited tertiary people, danced at concerts. Crowded places are nice that way; you can forget a lot if you let yourself. Individuals blur into a larger mass, but if you were floating, looking down from above, you would understand that the crowd was less than the individual. She joined those crowds without much hesitation. When the speakers reverberated and the pandemonium belied her heart, it distracted her for a moment. Her friends would find her in the crowd and yell, let’s dance! She yelled something back. It was difficult sober, but she could fall in love with vanity as long as there was enough alcohol.

And the dinners with them—she enjoyed those as well. Besides the handful of idiots who invariably wriggled their way into the group, she loved her friends—truly. They cooked shitty meals together. She enjoyed the company more than the food. Once—after all the alcohol and dinner—she lay on the rug, drowsy, listening to her friends sing noughties pop through the smoke-muffled air. This made her feel happy, briefly.

To tame her lust, she found a male friend; he was tall with an ugly face. There was something wrong with his nose—too wide, studded with too many pores—so she tried not to look at it. They tasted each other on the ancient couch. Fucked. He smelled odd, but she ignored it. She knew it wouldn’t last long anyway. It didn’t. But at the time, she figured it would take her mind off things. It did for a while.

At night, after her friends left and abandoned a consuming silence that seeped into the corners of her room, she lay curled up in bed, under the armor of her own warmth, hidden from the rest of the world.

Presently, she walked along the horizon of a sunset—a beach without a name. The sun expelled its dying rays on thin clouds imbued with golden mauve hues. The sky glowed in her eyes, her face, the calm sea. Powerless waves washed small bubbles onto the sand. The next wave took them away. She looked for some end, some beginning, some gateway leading someplace else—just not here. And sometimes, she found it:

A small, lonely cabin ensconced in soft snow. Sitting in front of a crackling wood-burning fireplace—applewood because it smells faintly sweet. She felt warm in a way she could feel through cashmere against her chest. Warm from the chin on her shoulder. Warm from the shared whispers. Warm from intertwined fingers—

But back to the sunset. That’s where she really was. The wind blew her clothes taut and her hair whipped her pretty face. Near the water, some kids played a game without rules. Their parents called them back: time to go home.

Yes, that’s it. I’d like to go home, she thought.

Last modified on 2025-10-28