I've been strapped on money lately (a result of overspending and getting fewer shifts at work) so I slap on some sunscreen, put on sunglasses, and start the 30 - 40 minute walk to the park.
On the way there I think about a lot of things. I think about her more than usual. I pass a center that I had my work experience at a few years ago and I remember how bad it felt to be away from her while I was "working." I take a shortcut through a field and I see the familiar sight of a huge willow tree looming over abench that I sat on a long time ago.
My aunt's house (where I lived up until high school) is pretty close to the field, and I want to drop some stuff off so I take a quick detour there. As I walk down the block I grew up on, I see both change and sameness. I wonder if the duck pond just a block away is still there, and I'm reminded of a promise I made to her. Some of the houses have changed owners and some have changed face. Everything else looks to have remained the same though.
I never did get the chance to take her to my aunt's place. I was always convinced my parents and the rest of my family would absolutely love her.
I walk to the backyard of my aunt's place, feeling a little bit like a stranger. Plants grow everywhere and I drop off the goods - a folder of my brother's studying material for when he gets off work - on the back porch. The gate latch that clinks behind me is a familiar sound.
From my aunt's house to the park where the game is there is a pedestrian bridge that spans over a highway of sorts. Again, I'm reminded of when we were here together. As a child I would peer over the thick concrete walls that prevented dumb kids like me from falling over. Now I feel like a lumbering giant looking over those same concrete walls and taking in the sounds of traffic and cars.
Once I reach the end of the bridge the rest of the trip is an uphill walk followed by two blocks to the park. The hill hugs the golf pitch & putt and I recall that the family of one of my friends from elementary school used to take care of the grounds here. That friend also happens to be what young me naively considered my second "girlfriend." For the rest of the trek up the hill my mind swirls with the past and how much fun I had in elementary school.
As I near the end of the hill I bump into two of my teammates unpacking their things from their car. I greet them and we make our way to the field together. When we arrive at the park even more memories flood my consciousness. Though my brain remains in the present my heart skips back years and I can feel those emotions all again, those summer evenings spent at the park with my cousin, those carefree school afternoons,
that time when we got into a fight and then I stormed out or she stormed out, I don't even remember anymore but knowing myself it was probably me. It rained and rained. She ended up sitting at a bench in the park and I sat under a tree at my elementary school. It was cold to say at the least. I called her and I met her at the bench. We both said our parts and made up. Bundled up in our newfound warmth, we waddled over to the local gas station and bought some hot chocolate. We waited for the next bus and took it towards home, getting off and waiting at a McDonald's for a transfer. Over some Junior McChickens we warmed up and talked and laughed and smiled. Our bus came and we made our way home.
My mind snaps back to the present, and I march on towards the rest of my team. We win both our games and everybody has a good time.
Not from the game last week but a picture I'd like to share. |
Writing this has helped me realize a few things. I use way too many commas in my writing, most of them not even necessary. I think it comes from my speaking pattern and habits as I write like how I speak. Another thing that I'm really proud of is the fact that I was able to write a post about her without feeling bad about myself. Even writing about the little story at the end made my heart well up with the emotions I felt while all that unfolded, but I managed to write it and convey it in a way that I'm happy with. Typically my posts about her end up in the "messes" pile of my box. I think my title selection was poor this time around, but hopefully next time I'll pick something better.
There's more to come!
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