memoir--the dB building

"What are you thinking?" Sunshine asked, looking down at me.

I was having trouble expressing myself so I continued to stare deep into her eyes, icy ponds in which I often drowned myself. Her face reflected a soft glow and was shimmery around the edges. Her mouth canted toward a coy smile. I shivered a bit.

The world left me in that gaze. Suddenly, everything that had been bothering me--all those little and big insecurities of adulthood--diffused in the air. She waited for an answer.

I smiled wider, shrugged, said, "I'm not thinking of anything."

A lie, obviously. She knew this. I was lost in this seemingly inconsequential moment of laying together on a dorm room futon. Just looking at her, just being with her, was enough to quell the cocktail of confusion that sat before us, certain to be spilled two months down the road.

Then it was back again, the insecurity, accumulating deep within me. The base formed quickly in my lower abdomen, then the structure piled high once more. The peak came to rest somewhere near the back of my throat. I had become used to its dim throb the last few weeks, as if it was some great big statement waiting to be expressed, but I always lacked the means to do so.

"Nothing?" Sunshine asked, not believing it for a second. Her smile beamed brighter.

I thought of it all, the teetering skyscraper of my uncertain future.

college jobs radio career internship potential begin end
loss moving packing leaving paths cities apart december
fast life secret confuse priorities dedication sorry home
wrecker infidelity separation obtuse lonely cause me hand
written miss sadness despair stride life vibrant prospect
park brooklyn hands sunsets drives wksu typewriter
corner visit ride window hot stickers buttons excuse
umbrella columns rain merrill walking estuary bridge
mountain memoir poems slovak abruzzi mix sufjan vinyl
dancing jazz pinot creative laying tears emotion heavy
words sexual charge celebrity party roof gone twenty
four sitting lake hip indie quit letter prayers red jacket in
love whimsy bellow like intense morning moment eyes
wednesday hump bad both someday reason works
out annie coltrane elevator black white flim pentax then
what lips yours best beautiful longing summer more
failure respect stroke cheek feel better lift worry concern
income lexus volvo turnup glasses bright why when see
again pain hurt need want everything nothing importance
orchestra viola opera elixir ypsilanti calculation reprieve
distance week month fourteen year summer fall october
florida sunglass fashion artemis stater boogie hat eyelashes
kisskiss deep curls breeze smile gloves scarf football field
susans E not D wandering phone text waiting station orange
november thanksgiving soon warm cold nose cider fordham
paste jane ira pink sleep neck rasberries tummy giggle grad
school two save see world wishing glad blog new york glance
april twenty three birthday whimsy alley transfer cannot park
slope destination apartment loft studio photos paintings high
art we poem statue pumpkin happy remember palette travel
europe france prague rome london firenze amour distinct
throb seeing horizon lights tunnels vapor balance shutter dorm
comfort relationship amazing wonderful crazy nutso for you
future future future future future future future future future
time time time time time time time time time time time time
love love love love love love love love love love love love love
life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life
nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing
everything everything everything everything everything
end end end end end end end end end end end end end end
begin begin begin begin begin begin begin begin begin begin
sunshine sunshine sunshine sunshine sunshine sunshine
future time love life nothing everything end begin sunshine

These were about the first forty stories of my skyscraper, the cumbersome dB Building. We sold stocks, bonds and insecurity deposits. At the top of this structure was a great big art deco spire, originally designed to tether a bulbous dirigible labeled FUTURE. But this building was huge--well over three thousand feet tall in concept. The wind whipped and pulled up there at the peak. Any balloon would have been tossed about. As such, it was uncertain as to where I'd board the FUTURE, and where it'd even take me.

But this wasn't my strongest concern. It was not my future that scratched at the back of my throat. The Zeppelin was floating around the night sky and would return in due time. It did not worry me much.

It was that someone had occupied--amid whipping winds and a teetering base--the small circular platform atop the spire.

It was you, Sunshine.

So when you asked me what I was thinking when we gazed into each other's eyes that night, I could have said everything. But I said nothing. I had trouble expressing myself. Because at the very top of it all, at the silvery peak of all my bustling thoughts, happy and sad, you stood like a beacon.

So it was nothing.
And it was everything.
But mainly,
it was you.