My grandma used to tell me that stars were all the stories of people who were once alive. Instead of them floating away and disappearing, they'd glow in the sky to remind others that their stories were once here. She told me this when I had spent the night as a kid and while we ate Popsicles in the dark on lawn chairs starring in to the sky. Mine was grape, I know this because stars always remind me of grape. When she passed away almost three years ago this week, I couldn't think of anything that would make me feel better. You know, I had people telling me that she was in a better place seemed ridiculous. Then there were others that said that she's happier now and that I will see her again. It's been three years. Three years and I still miss her. I miss how she made every single thing in her life seem beautiful. So colorful. So special. I miss her glow. I miss how she was able to inspire me with her stories.
Even if stars are just puffs of gas trillions of miles away, I can't help but think of how they still do store memories-- even if they aren't stories of people past. They still remind us that life is way more than just about dwelling on that bad latte you just had or how your toothpaste just squirted out the other end or how frustrating parking can be in the city of Chicago. They also remind us that compared to all that stuff up in the sky, we are just flecks of dust.
It's a big place out there and life is way too short to think so small.
"This isn't working! You know this just isn't working!"
My neighbor is screaming again. By the sound of her voice she's in her mid-twenties, she's exasperated, and she is angry. Very very angry.
"How many times do I have to tell my friends that it's working and then you do something to fuck it all up again!"
So this is the third fight this weekend. My bed sits by the window that looks out to the building across the alley. With summer in the city, people open their windows and when the cars aren't whizzing by along the street, I can hear everything from that building. OK, like, three floors up there's a couple that likes to have sex after dinner. Well, after I eat dinner, at least. On the floor below them there's a guy that is always trying to peek in to my bedroom window--enter: reason why blinds are always closed. The floor below him is the girl that has a boyfriend named Chris. And it's more often than not that she uses a tone with him that sounds more like she is giving orders than asking him to spoon her.
"Two-years, Chris! I have put my life out there for two fucking years! My mom tells me to leave..."
Her voice is curdling it's strained so much.
"My sister told me that this is done..."
She is sobbing. You know, those heave sobs where she's mouthing words with air and wet eyes.
"My best friend... and you know she was ALWAYS rooting for us..."
I try not to listen to all this, but there's something that forces me to eavesdrop. I sit pretzel legged on my bed in the quiet calmness of my apartment thinking about how summer in the city means we aren't shut out from each other as much. It's like backyards in the suburbs. People dig in gardens or mow their lawns while they wave to their neighbors. In the summer you connect. In the summer this is how city people know they have neighbors-- through open windows.
"I don't want this anymore... this hurts too much. I'm not old enough to give everything up. This hurts too much."
It's hurting me, too. I mean, I don't know this girl. I've probably seen her on the street and wouldn't even recognize her. But I know her life. I know it's not what she wants. I know that I've been there before. I know that Chris isn't good for her.
"Chris, I can't breathe! Chris! This hurts! Please don't say that. Please!"
Now, I'm holding my breathe. Something in the conversation changed.
"Chris! Please! I do need you. I'm just upset... I ...
I hold my breath longer.
"No!"
My stomach drops.
"I swear I won't yell like this anymore!"
I can feel what she's feeling. That sudden reality that maybe something has gone too far when all you were trying to do was see how far that "far" could be pushed.
"Chris? Chris!"
Silence.
I hear her sob. I close my window. I feel like I've gone too far in my eavesdropping.
They say that when one door closes, another will open. Sometimes, though, we aren't dealing with doors, but with windows. And when we're entering the windows of other peoples' worlds, we have to understand that maybe what we learn of others is something that we need to learn about ourselves.
As I begin to become prepared to dive in to the possibility of something new with a new somebody, it's so important to remember the bad things in a past relationship and things that happen in other people's relationships are lessons and breathes of fresh air for your future relationship. You know, the "God, what if that happens agains" or the "I don't want to be downs" or "I don't want to have to go through what they are going throughs".
In the end, though, whether it's a door or window doesn't really matter. It's as long as you are using it as a way to get to the right place--with each other--that matters the most.
Otherwise, you might as well be running in to a brick wall.
I was walking to pick up my Thai take-out order when I was approached by a drunk Cubs fan in her mid twenties.
Cute Drunk Cubs Fan Girl: You're gay, right?
Me: Uh, yes. Yes I am.
C.D.C.F.G: Oh my GOD thank GOD you're gay. You're gay!!!!
Me: Um. Yup.
C.D.C.F.G: Thank God! I'm so happy!
Me: Um. Why?
C.D.C.F.G: Because I can ask you a question and not get hit on! Everyone keeps hitting on me when I ask them a question. But you won't hit on me because your gay! I'm so happy you're gay!
Me: Yah! I'm gay!
C.D.C.F.G: Yah!!!!
Me: Yah!!!
C.D.C.F.G: YAHHHHH!!!
Me: So, um, what's your question.
C.D.C.F.G: ...
Me: You know, that question you needed to ask me...
C.D.C.F.G: ...
Me: Uh...
C.D.C.F.G: I don't remember the question... shit... I'm so stupid...
Me: But you know what?
C.D.C.F.G: What?
Me: I'm gay! Yah!!!!
C.D.C.F.G: Yah!!!!!!
