Beautiful, James. I want to rename this site "angela wearing headphones."
*****
So, it would seem that the affair is over. She always finishes before me, but I always use the excuse that it's because I'm taking extra time reviewing my work. I don't even see her leave this time, I am concentrating so hard. Something about exaggeration and hyperbole. She might have tried to catch my eye on the way out, I may never know. She graduates from Gorgeous State University, she graduates from me. Something about irony and satire. My pen cuts across the last lowercase "t" in the word frontera, next question, quick, I might be able to catch her before she's out of the building. Leave without saying goodbye? You left a note last time, fall semester, winter break, remember- incidentally I have it memorized: You want to watch "Buffy" together over the holidays?- then a number. She doesn't even like Buffy. Something about poetic justice. I kept that note folded into quarters in my back pocket for most of winter break, taking it out in secret, shaded in my palms, whispered out loud. Shouted out quiet. Written in pencil, it smudged and faded so that I could barely read it, but I had it memorized. It ran across the bottom of my mind like subtitles to whatever that other girl- what was her name?- whatever she was saying. We never watched Buffy. She doesn't even like Buffy. Something about symbolism. She made me lasagna, put the leftovers in a tupperware container for me to take home, but I forgot them. In her refrigerator. Something about realism. Forget it. I won't- I can't catch up with her. I'm not finished yet. She always finishes before me.