IN MOTION

I HAD A LOOMING FEELING OF FAMILIARITY AS I WALKED THROUGH THE PARK, EVEN THOUGH I OFTEN TOOK THIS ROUTE WHEN I WALKED TO WORK, THERE WAS SOMETHING MORE THAN THE FAMILIARITY OF HAVING PASSED THE SAME PLACE TIME AND TIME AGAIN. IT WAS MORE OF A DEJA VU FEELING, AS IF THIS MOMENT IN TIME HAD HAPPENED BEFORE, IT SEEMED AS THOUGH EVERY LEAF THAT WAS FALLING I HAD SEEN FALL BEFORE. BUT HONESTLY, THESE WEIRD DYSPHORIC FEELINGS NOW CAME SO OFTEN THAT I RARELY GAVE IT MUCH THOUGHT WHEN IT DID. I CHALKED IT UP TO THE USUAL EMOTIONAL DISCOMFORT THAT CAME WITH KNOWING I WAS GOING TO HAVE TO SEE MY MOTHER LATER IN THE DAY AND LEFT IT AT THAT.

ALL I HAD TO DO WAS STOP BY THE OFFICE TO GET MY WORK ASSIGNMENTS FOR THE NEXT WEEK, AND THEN I WOULD HAVE A BIT OF THE AFTERNOON TO MYSELF. I WAS REALLY HOPING TO GET BRAD SIT AT LEAST ONCE THIS WEEK. HE WAS THE CUTEST LITTLE PIT BULL AND THE MOST FUN TO WALK. WHEN ELLA CAME ALONG ON WALKS SHE WOULD BRING ME COFFEE AND SPEND A SOLID 10 MINUTES PETTING THE DOGS AND IGNORING ME. HER FAVORITE DOG WAS FLOPPY, WHOM SHE HAD RENAMED SARAH JESSICA BARKER BECAUSE SHE SAID THERE WAS AN AMAZING RESEMBLANCE AND CLAIMS THAT THE DOG WOULD ENJOY LONG WALKS THROUGH THE PARK WITH HIS FRIENDS AND COSMOPOLITANS. EVENTUALLY I BEGAN TO LISTEN TO AUDIO BOOKS AND ASSIGNING EACH DOG TO A CHARACTER IN THE BOOK, WHICH WAS ENDLESSLY ENTERTAINING WHEN I WAS LISTENING TO FIGHT CLUB.

I USED TO LISTEN TO MUSIC WHILE I WALKED BUT I FOUND THAT ANOTHER VOICE IN MY HEAD WAS ONLY DISTRACTING, AND I OFTEN COULDN’T HEAR MY SISTER’S VOICE OVER IT AND WHEN SHE FIRST DIED, MY SISTER’S VOICE WAS ALL I WANTED TO KEEP ME COMPANY AS I WALKED. ABOUT A YEAR AFTER I BEGAN TO GET INTO PODCASTS AND AUDIOBOOKS, SO I LISTEN TO ANOTHER PERSON'S CONVERSATION AND AVOID BEING LEFT ALONE WITH MY THOUGHTS.

THE COMMENT I HAD SEEN THIS MORNING WAS ON AN OLD PHOTO OF ELLA FROM TWO YEARS BEFORE SHE DIED, SHE WAS SITTING IN A FROZEN YOGURT SHOP NEXT TO THE GIRL WHO COMMENTED ON THE PHOTO, HOLDING A CUP OF HALF EATEN FROZEN YOGURT AND TALKING TO THE GIRL, HER BOTH OF THEM WITH THEIR HANDS IN THE AIR MID SENTENCE. THE GIRL HAD COMMENTED ON IT REMINISCING ABOUT THE TIMES THEY HAD SPENT TOGETHER, THEIR TALKS AFTER SCHOOL, THEIR TEXT CONVERSATIONS THAT SHE STILL REREADS, THE LIST GOES ON.

I HAVE VIVID MEMORIES OF THIS GIRL AT ELLA'S FUNERAL, SITTING IN THE CROWD OF HER HIGH SCHOOL FRIENDS, HUDDLED TOGETHER, ALWAYS MOVING IN A PACK, SOME OF THEM CRYING, OTHERS TRYING TO FIGURE OUT HOW TO ACT AND PROCESS THE EVENT, WITH EXPRESSIONS ON THEIR FACE LIKE THEY WERE TRYING TO PASS A PRE-CALC TEST THEY DIDN'T STUDY FOR. I REMEMBER THE LOOKS THEY GAVE MY FAMILY DURING THE WAKE, JUST ME AND MY MOM SITTING IN FRONT OF THE CLOSED CASKET AS THEY ALL PASSED BY AND PAYED THEIR RESPECTS. ON SOME OF THEIR FACES YOU COULD SEE HOW BAD THEY FELT FOR THE TWO OF US.

THE BUS RIDE TO MY MOTHER’S WAS HONESTLY THE MOST PEACEFUL PART OF THE DAY. THE REPETITIVE BLUR OF SCENERY PASSING BY PROVIDES A GREAT BACKGROUND FOR IGNORING THE PRESSING THOUGHTS OF THE COMMENT ON ELLA’S FACEBOOK POST THAT WERE SLOWLY MAKING THEIR WAY BACK INTO MY MIND. HOUSE AFTER HOUSE RUSHED BY ME, THE PATCH GRASS BETWEEN THEM BECAME LARGER AS WE MOVED FURTHER AND FURTHER AWAY FROM THE CITY. I TRIED TO MAKE UP STORIES FOR THE FEW PEOPLE WHO WERE SITTING IN THE CARS NEXT TO US, SOME WITH KIDS IN THE BACK SEAT, OTHERS WITH A FRIEND OR SIGNIFICANT OTHER NEXT TO THEM. KEEPING MYSELF DISTRACTED ENOUGH THAT I WOULDN'T SHOW UP AT MY MOTHER'S DOOR NEARLY IN TEARS AND BOMBARD HER WITH GRIEF I HADN'T PROCESSED YET.