The Realm of Possibility Page 7

  ladder your reasons until they reach the sky

  lament as loud as you can—I know you're thinking of me

  landing right beside me at the table, jed shifts the conversation to lighter things

  lantern lines of words to help guide me away from her

  last night I couldn't imagine this new reality

  late into the night I pictured it all falling apart

  laugh despite her

  laugh to spite her

  lean forward, listen to your friends

  leap if you have to

  learn that things will mend in a new way

  leaving my guard down has always been second nature to me

  lecturing myself to avoid looking over at her

  led by curiosity, or desire, or sheer stupidity, I turn and lose

  left like there is no such thing as memory

  legs soon crowd between us

  lending me his english essay, jed tells me to copy quick

  letting me twist his words my own way

  letting me work through the last minutes of her avoidance

  like we never even

  listening to my friends' last assurances before the last bell rings

  little booster shots of self-esteem

  little prognostications of a better future

  little protests that she could be so unfair, so wrong

  locating mr. feldman in the clutter of his art room, I warn him I will not be sculpting any goddesses today

  locking me in his stare, he warns me to paint neither red nor blue

  lone among my teachers, I think he understands

  looking through the resins and the pigments, I feel my senses' slow return

  looping circles into patterns

  loosening the muscles that have been so sympathetic to my hurt

  losing the fear of touch

  losing the knowledge that I touched her, and look what happened

  loss takes as much as love does, sometimes more

  low voices still say it was my fault

  lures of truth turn out to be hooks

  making circles

  making lines

  making meaningless meaning

  making signs not meant to be read

  many minutes pass, until mr. feldman breaks my spell by breaking the news that the period is over

  mapping my design with his finger, he tells me I am blessed

  marvelous words in an offhand tone

  maybe that's all I need

  me gusta no español, but I have to go to class anyway

  measuring my words too carefully, I make it through an oral quiz

  memories return to me in the pause that follows.

  merely two seats away, mary and pete wear necklaces they made for each other.

  messy, this collection of recollections

  midway through a sentence, she would chew her necklace, and I would always buy her new beads

  mine remains on my neck—it hadn't occurred to me to take it off

  miserable, misguided, misled

  missing her is not an option right now

  missing her seems to be a given

  mr. randall is in a bad mood for English

  my salvation is jed, who sends an endless stream of notes my way

  never mentioning her by name, only as The Evil One

  newfound bitterness, humor in the hating—

  no, not hating

  notice how fickle feelings can be

  now I'm better, now I'm worse

  nowhere is it written how to deal with this

  only thirty more minutes

  over and over until it is over

  papers are handed in

  people look at me and I know they have heard

  perhaps they've heard her version

  pestering, pitiful, played out, possessive

  possibly they don't believe her

  preparing to leave, jed proposes an ice-cream-from-container afternoon

  probably I should take him up on it, but more than anything, I want sleep

  professing my true exhaustion, I tell him I'll be okay

  profoundly sick at heart, but okay

  purposefully, I avoid the hallway where her locker resides

  pushing my gaze straight to the floor, I try to navigate until I must look up

  putting myself right in her path, right in her line of sight

  puzzled by what to do

  racing heart stops me

  raising my eyes to meet hers …

  reacting as she looks right past me …

  realizing she is going to pretend I am not here

  reaping, rebuffing, redrawing, reflecting, regarding, regressing,

  rehearsing, reiterating, reliving, remembering, reopening, repaying,

  repealing, replying, retracing, retreating, returning, revoking

  right at this moment, I cannot imagine it being any worse

  right here, I have been turned into nothing

  right now, I am negated

  right or wrong, I am pummeled by her theatrics

  riven to the spot, unable to call her on it

  robbed even of that

  roller coasters run smoother than my mind

  rope couldn't pull me home faster

  row row row your boat, even as it sinks

  rude entertainment for everyone in the hall to see

  run to your locker

  run to your nearest friend and get a ride

  rush through the conversation and try not to cry

  safe in my room

  searching that moment for the motivation I need

  see, she is not worth it

  see, she never loved you

  see, there is no going back

  seesaw through the haze

  sing out all the doubts you ever had

  singe the memories, because they are the things that get lost in the fire

  sitting on the edge of my bed

  skipping to the ending

  slaying the tiger even as it claws

  sleep calling me

  slowly, I give in to it

  somehow the knocking wakes me, hours later

  someone calling me to get ready for dinner

  something angry in her voice

  spare me one more fault, one more argument

  speak to me later, I plead silently

  special dispensation for the dumped

  spoken too soon

  starting with my lateness, moving on to my afternoon nap and the paint left on the dining room table

  stepmother and I have been through this so many times

  stifling my yell takes all of my strength

  stupidly, zack comes in late, too, and gets his share of the earful

  substituting apologies for defiance, he brushes her off and looks at me carefully

  suddenly I realize he hadn't heard until this afternoon

  suffering on my behalf, he draws her wrath away from me

  table conversation is cordial and strained

  taking food to stop my hunger is pointless

  tastes feel strange in my mouth

  teach me how to see this years from now

  tear out the last seams

  tegan

  the answer is to just let go

  the betrayal is to the past

  the cocoon dangles empty

  the desire outlasts the object

  the effort lingers

  the frustration is in how pointless the effort was

  the ghost does not make itself transparent

  the heart knows nothing except its own mind

  the ideas are not enough

  the jealousy is always there

  the killing blow is sometimes the softest

  the life you lead can be detoured

  the moment you know cannot be taken back

  the new you will try to bury the old me

  the opportunity has passed

  the past is inopportune

/>   the questions all grow from why

  the reality will always be contended

  the sadness will ebb

  the trouble is the time it might take

  the ugly words cannot be erased, only discredited

  the versions are never the same

  the wonder is that we make it through

  the x is the unknown variable

  the yesterday cannot be repeated

  the zenith is the point when you look down and realize you're no longer below

  there is no use in staying at the table

  thoughts can follow you anywhere

  turning the tv off, I head back to my room

  tv only seems garish, fake

  under the covers, under the watch of my glow-in-the-dark stars

  up until this moment, I have held back from the edge

  veering away from the flashing-before-my-eyes

  votive darkness, though, draws the memories to me

  wading in, because I know I have to

  we ate raspberries from each other's hands

  we carved our initials in benches, surrounded by a shape of our own invention

  we danced around her bedroom without caring how we looked

  we danced around so many subjects; if I brought up love, she usually brought it down

  we fell into each other's arms as soon as no one else was in sight

  we gave nothing that was irreplaceable, except time

  we lit candles for each other when we were in different cities

  we made fun of people together, to feel better about ourselves

  we obsessed over the difference between what we meant and what we said

  we ran out of things to say and watched videos instead

  we screamed over what movie to see, being five minutes late

  we were never honest with each other, not really

  what's gone is gone

  when the night grows so quiet you could hear the moon rise, zack comes to my door

  whispering into the darkness

  with careful steps entering

  withdrawing my solitude

  witnessing my arms crossed over my heart

  x marks the spot

  years between us, but not that many

  years we've gone without this kind of conversation

  yesterday he couldn't even tell something was wrong

  yet here he is, now

  you know, he says, you'll get through this

  you live each day one at a time

  you live every day all at once

  you live with the possibility of good-bye

  you move on.

  you ponder in this darkness and see you're not alone

  you realize you never felt alone

  you subtracted one from your life, that's all

  your heart is not as broken as you think, he says

  you're not as dumb as you look, I reply

  zack tells me it won't be as hard tomorrow, and I know he's right

  zero hour has passed

  Strong

  We are all bodies, so I figured I wanted to be a strong one.

  Without your body, you are nothing. You aren't even an idea.

  I took off my shirt and people told me I was well-defined.

  People respected the time I put in, all of the lifting,

  the sweating, the pushing, the running, the exertion.

  It was a discipline. My body was a discipline.

  I wasn't always like that. None of us were.

  The boy with the sunken chest gave himself over to me.

  He wanted to be strong, because in this world you have to be.

  It started with a blue barbell, something my mother had for aerobics.

  I sat there in front of the television and lifted and lifted.

  My father saw and got me ten pounds, fifty pounds, a bench.

  I wanted Daniel, my neighbor, to lift with me. But he wasn't into it.

  So I found my way to football, to wrestling, to the weight room.

  I found the guys who knew what I meant, what I meant to be.

  They said I would feel more in control. And I did.

  They said I'd have to devote myself. And I did.

  They said girls would look at me. And, damn, they did.

  This body worked like a key. It got me into parties.

  It got me the nod. It got me the smile and the tease. I was no fool.

  Guys saw me, they saw power. Girls saw me, they saw sex.

  Well, some of them. Daniel saw me and thought I was stupid.

  Coach saw me and thought I could do more, strengthen.

  And Mary … well, at first I didn't think Mary saw me at all.

  Even though I'd never really talked to her, she got under my skin.

  She wasn't in the group of girls that hung with my group of guys.

  She was just this girl in Spanish class who was worse at it than I was.

  When Señora Tilghman called on her, she never had the answer.

  She never even knew what the question was, even if it was in English.

  She wasn't just lost in space. She was space itself. Waiting to disappear.

  She was not my type. My type was the kind of girl who'd go for me.

  But there I was, fascinated by a girl who was nearly invisible.

  As I was to her, like the crowd blurring when you're in the game.

  With the football season on, I had to push my body beyond.

  I wasn't like John, who'd drink eight Buds and still own the field.

  I wasn't like Martin, such a natural that running fast is like breathing.

  No, I had to watch myself. One false move and I'd find myself on JV.

  The guys liked me and considered me part of the team. But no illusions.

  If I held them back—if I didn't do my part—it was good-bye.

  She was the one distraction I allowed myself. John laughed.

  He said I could do better, which meant he didn't think she was hot.

  He said I could probably circle her waist with my two hands.

  I was amazed by her slightness, by the bones of her pale arms.

  She was so breakable. I wondered: If I lifted her, would it feel like a wing?

  I couldn't believe I was thinking such things. I wanted to know.

  We went for weeks without speaking, with only me realizing we weren't.

  Then one day I saw these silent tears falling from her eyes.

  She was so thin and sad that her whole body looked like a line of tears.

  There, in Spanish class. We were conjugating conocer, to know.

  I reached into my pocket for a tissue, but all I had was a napkin.

  I hesitated, then handed it over. She wiped her eyes before taking it.

  She mouthed the words thank you to me. She stopped crying.

  Composed, like nothing had happened. Conozco. Conoces. Conoce.

  I watched as she rolled the napkin into a tiny rope around her finger.

  She was so light, but her emotions were heavy. John said to run away.

  But I walked toward her instead. Asked her out. Got her to talk a little.

  Told her she was beautiful. Didn't give up when she didn't believe me.

  I didn't know I loved her until I found myself in the middle of it.

  Concern wasn't something I'd ever really thought about before.

  Now all I could do was be concerned about her, and hope she cared.

  It wasn't easy. There are tears inside her that nobody can stop.

  But there are so many other things. I could show them to her.

  That there's more to life than more. And there's more to life than less.

  Talking to her, I felt strong in a different way. Without her, I faltered.

  I felt alone again, with so many questions and no one to ask.

  I found that with love, you need someone to talk to about it.

  There were guys on the team, but their girlfriends didn't like Mary.
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  They always had someone else to set me up with, to bring me back.

  The guys' allegiance was to the team, and the girls had to take it.

  The guys wanted to hear about my sex life, not my love life.

  John kept asking me for “the details,” and at first I told him.

  But when I saw he didn't care what they linked up to, I stopped.

  The guys would make jokes, about her size, about our sex.

  I never really laughed, but no one noticed. Until I started to hold back.

  Until I started to tell them to go on without me.

  Coach pulled me aside, asked me where my fire had gone.