Tuesday, May 17, 2011
I had the apartment to myself. Well, almost. Everyone else was sleeping. I had just returned from my early morning class. The only thing enjoyable about having an early morning class was coming back to the quiet apartment and having some silence to myself. With nights full of people, laughter, music, and other illegal activities, I needed the alone time. I have an insatiable need for it.
People marveled at my ability to take care of my shit, like get my ass out of bed for an early class, amidst all the late nights and hangovers.
Something drove me out of that bed. Something drove me to do what needed to be done, graduate on time, and graduate with Magna Cum Laude honors.
Something drove me besides the big, yellow Vivarin pill I took with my coffee on my walk to class. Something drove me besides the nicotine in my veins, puffing as I strolled among mountains in the Flagstaff morning.
Slowly, slowly, my friends dropped out of school one by one. But, I wanted it all. The late nights, all the fun to be had AND the good grades and a future career.
My life at the time was a give and take, a yin and yang. Wild nights, quiet mornings. Darkness in the evening, responsibility in the day.
I lay back on the couch, watching the smoke swirl through the room by the light of the window. It hung there with nowhere to go. I had just smoked my last cigarette and crushed it in the ashtray. Soon, I would begin picking out the cigarettes that had a little bit left to give and relight them, so I would have something to smoke.
Everyone was sleeping. Soon, it would all begin again.
This was a memoir piece for The Red Dress Club in response to this picture: