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I have always felt wrong - like I am living in a stranger's body. When I left home for college, it was a last ditch effort to figure out how to live with myself. It didn't work. Until Jesse saved my life.
Perfect
By Kathleen Hayes
January 1, 2013
It
was January 1st. I always went out to visit my spot on the first of
the year. At first it was to hope things would somehow get better, that somehow
the next year would not be as hopeless and lonely as the year that had just
ended. Then, it was to remember, and take a moment to give thanks.
It
was a little after nine in the morning, and the snow had just started to fall,
though the not quite freezing temperature meant nothing was sticking to the
ground. I rounded the corner from 37th
St to Prospect St and made the decision that it wasn't too icy to take the
Exorcist steps, which would cut about five minutes off my walk. I smiled
briefly to myself, thinking of the first time I had seen The Exorcist. Jesse
had been horrified that I hadn’t seen it, and brought it to one of our early
movie nights. Despite all the changes in the area, you could still recognize a
lot of the places in Georgetown that were used to film it.
It was a short walk down to the banks of the
Potomac River, and before long, I was picking my way through the grass to the
slight cliff that overlooks the water. I love open space, heights and water.
There is just not much of that in Washington, DC – at least not within walking
distance of school – so when I discovered this little outcropping, I made it my
place. If there isn’t much traffic, I can close my eyes, sit with my feet
dangling off the edge and listen to the waters of the Potomac race by as the
wind plays with my hair.
This
year, when I sat down, there was no despair in my heart – only joy and hope for
a wonderful year. As I looked at the tiny snowflakes dancing their way down to
the water, I thought about Jesse. This was where I had first met him.
Five Years Ago
I woke up with a pounding head and a roiling
in my stomach telling me that whatever I had done at the party last night was
not my friend. Apparently, I’d fallen asleep in my clothes. Tights – which had
been ripped to shreds at some point, a too short skirt, and a too low cut tank
top looked even worse the morning after. I knew it was a mistake. The few
people from my dorms who didn’t go home for the holidays had decided to go out
on New Year’s Eve and had insisted that I come along. I had convinced myself
that, if I could just act normal, then maybe I would start to feel normal. All
it did was make me feel worse. And leave me with a hangover from hell.
I
stumbled into the bathroom, briefly noticing that my roommate, Kira, had not
come home I tried to avoid looking at myself in Kira's mirror hanging on the
door, but, unfortunately, my eyes were drawn to the reflection staring out at
me. As always, it felt like I was
looking at someone else.
