Messay: Thanks to You I Went Stargazing

          There's something about Vivi, about being around her that makes me—different? think? better. I—well, most of what I want to say isn't in thoughts, much less words. So I guess what I need to say is that when I got back from Nashville and ate dinner, I didn't study. I didn't go to a coffee shop, I didn't go to bed. I grabbed a pair of sweatpants, shoved two Reese's cups into my pocket, and got back in the car. I didn't let myself plan where I was going to drive, I made myself wait to decide the turn directions until I was at each intersection—front gate, right; then I-65 for safety; exit Alford for the hill, but left for the unusual; straight for dark downhillness; then hard right into the abandoned corner lot near a chill intersection. I knew it was the best I'd get—cities aren't the best places to find stargazing outposts. 

          I need to speed up this narration a little, but here's where the story slows down. I parked and grabbed costs and laid on my car roof. I listened to cars and saw stars and listened to Wings and thought things—I tried some to think about the universe, because I knew that's what Viv would do. I succeeded a little, mostly on the way back thinking about my answer to the question "Who do you want to be?" I also just thought about things I can't even remember specifically, and about where I was. 

          It was cold and good and now I'm back and in my bed. 

          Vivi asked at lunch how we'd all grown. She asked at dinner what we were reading. She showed us her art classroom building and won an exhibition at an art museum. She's friends with George and Judith and does it marvelously. She doesn't know what she wants to be; I wonder if she doesn't realize she's already it. 

          Being there made my heart glad, so when I left my heart was sad, and when I got back, I went and looked at the stars. 

December 8 2015