Jack & Leah

Jack lied on his back and let him mind form images of Leah.  Shadowed pieces of face and body  appear in the darkness above his bed.  A patchwork of soft memories seep into him, flowing into the various notes of nostalgia.  He tasted the past and the feelings flit through.  A caress of loneliness carries in it a sharp pang of sexuality.  Images rushed by of remembered unfamiliarity.  The first  conversations spoke in the hours just before and just after sleep.  Calling up moments of arguments and soft murmurs he revisited himself.  Breathing in deeply, Jack released the stream of recollections and let his mind wander.  Memories of the same places in different times washed over his half-consciencness.  Walking down the high school hallway and the familiarity of it now.  A blacked tree struck by lightning deep in the woods and the wonder that it had held.  Now it had long since rotted, only the stump remaining.  The very first time he had looked up and saw leah sitting in her chair.

damn

A vibration from his phone underneath his pillow causes him to slowly roll over and grope for it.

“Hello?”

“Hi, it’s Leah.”

“Oh? I was just thinking about you.  I haven’t done it in a while”

“Yeah?  That must have been it then.  What are you doing?”

“I’m lying on my back in my room and thinking of our past.  It’s sorta crazy to think of us back then and to think of us as we are now.”

“We grew up together.”

“I know.  Sometimes I struggle with thinking of you as you were then instead of whatever you are now.”

“It’s been some time”

“What are you afraid of these days, Leah?”

“I guess of not reaching my potential, between that and being alone.”

“I sorta feel that.”

Why, whats your biggest fear now, Jack?

“Well,  probably that we live in a closed loop of reality.  That whatever we are is infinite macrocosm upon macrocosm that is desperately attempting to discover itself without the ability to.  That it looks down on us as we do in the microscope, hoping our cells will give us the answer.  That there is only unknowing in ever direction forever and progress is just a way to forget that all we can do is try and forget the truth of our complete solitude within ourselves.”

“Your such an idiot”

“What?! Why? You just asked me didn’t you?”

“Yeah, but your version of reality is ridiculous.  Also, in essence you’ve just said the same thing as me.”

“Yeah, I guess so”

“What are you using to cope with it?”

“Wonder I guess…but sometimes I think it’s just another way to forget, like “giving up to wonder” or something like that”

“Yeah, I know what you mean.”

“You?”

“Style”

“Oh yeah? Haha, how does that work?

“I mean, like finding your style of existing.  It doesn’t need to progress through the infinite, it’s your personal answer to it.  You get to be an individual but can still be part of everything else.

“I like it”

“Thank you.  So if I say “I like your style”, it is the highest compliment I can give.”

“Good to know”

“Jack, I’m going back to sleep now, i’ve got to get up early tomorrow.”

“Alright, hey Leah?”

“Yeah?”

“I like your style.”

“I know, I like yours too.  Sweet dreams.”

“Night Leah”

“Goodnight Jack”