csgraham
02-10-2009, 01:46 AM
A college student sat alone at the top of a stairwell that led to the roof of the school. He would visit the spot frequently and think about life. He loved going there because everything there happened on his terms; he could come and go as he pleased. He could listen to music or sit in silence. He could write, or read. Whatever he wanted to do, that secluded spot was his secret place to do anything.
Lately, he had been thinking about love at the top of the stair well. All his friends found someone; they were all getting married to the people they loved and leaving to start their new lives. They were leaving him alone, to sit in a stairwell alone, and think about love. He didn’t have a great track record with relationships. Every once and a while he would find a girl he would become quite infatuated with, and on occasions it would become serious. However, nothing ever worked out. People would tell him to just date around and he might find some one, but he was never comfortable with dating around. The way he saw it, why waste the time?
So there he sat, scribbling away in his notebook, listening to music; thinking about love. He couldn’t hear the foot steps making their way up the stairs, but when they came to a stop he could see a couple of small naked feet, decorated with red nail polish. He stopped his music and looked up. In front of him stood a petite girl; she had curly brown hair that fell half way down her back, big brown eyes framed perfectly by glasses and a small mouth, with lips pressed together, smiling as far across her cheeks as they could. She wore a short sleeve checkered shirt and a purposely wrinkled skirt that reached her ankles, somewhat highlighting her bare feet.
“You look like you need a friend.” She said to him as if they knew each other.
“Do I?” He replied, he had no idea who she was, but he already kind of liked her.
“Yes, you do. Anyone who sits alone at the top of a stairwell needs a friend.” She stated as if it were a known fact.
“Well, I guess that could be true…”
“Oh it is,” she interrupted, “trust me I know, I sit up here alone a lot, and every time, I could use a friend.”
“Weird, I’m up here quite often myself and I’ve never seen you.”
“Well, I’ve seen you walking up and down these stairs many times.” She leaned towards him and whispered a secret, “I just wait for you to leave so I can have my secret spot to myself.”
“Well,” he said putting his things in his bag, “I guess I will leave you to your secret spot. Have fun.” He stood up, grabbed his back pack and began down the stairs. He wasn’t sure why he was leaving, she didn’t ask him to go. Half way down the first flight of stairs, he stopped and turned to the girl.
“Could you use a friend right now?” he asked expecting a “no” type response.
“I could always use a friend.” she said smiling as she moved over towards the wall, “Have a seat.”
He walked back up and took a seat next to the girl.
“Thanks,” he reached his hand out to greet her, “my name is…”
“No names.” She interrupted him as she shook his hand.
“Why not?” he laughed.
“Well, what if we talk, and we find out we really don’t like each other, or that we’re really annoying and we go back to our friends and tell them, I met this really annoying girl named…”
“Okay.” He said not knowing where she was going with it.
“Well, if we don’t know each others names, we can’t tell them who was really annoying. It saves our names from being forever labeled as annoying to you, me or anyone we ever tell about this meeting.”
“Sounds reasonable.” he said, still laughing at her quirkiness. “By the way, were you aware you are missing your shoes?”
“Yes, I was aware of that. They are in my bag.”
“They don’t do much good in there do they?”
“Well, no I suppose not, but feet are meant to be naked. I don’t see how anyone wears shoes all the time, makes feet all smelly and gross…” she said wrinkling up her face and shaking her head.
“I guess they do.” He laughed. He had never met anyone so willing to be this open this quickly; especially to a perfect stranger.
“So, what were you thinking about up here, all alone?” she asked him.
“Nothing.” He responded.
“No one thinks about nothing, especially when they are alone. Maybe when someone is talking to you, I could see zoning out and thinking about nothing, but not when your thoughts are the only things keeping you company.”
“You sure seem to know a lot about how people think.” She shrugged her shoulders, and raised her eyebrows.
“Well if you must know, I was thinking about love.” His cheeks grew pink out of embarrassment.
“Ooh, fun…I love, love!” she sang. “So what part of love?”
“Oh you know, the love that everyone else seems to find that you can’t.” he said then he caught himself, “But it’s not like I sit up here and sulk, or anything.” He didn’t want to sound pathetic.
“No it’s okay. We are humans, we naturally want to feel love and when we don’t, we sulk. It’s the two constants in human nature…we love, and want love. And we sulk. It’s nothing we can control, it just happens; like breathing.” The way she talked made him smile.
“Well, still I’m not sulking. It would just be cool to find “her” or whatever that means.”
“Maybe you will, or maybe you won’t.” She said without thinking how it sounded to him.
“Thanks for that.” he said, acting defeated.
“Well, it’s just…” she explained herself, “it’s just some people are meant to find that “other” and some aren’t. It’s part of life. And there is nothing wrong with either. So, just out of curiosity, I’m assuming you don’t have a girlfriend, or anything?”
“That’s a pretty good guess.” He wanted to ask her about a boyfriend but didn’t want to seem eager.
“Well, you will find someone. You seem like a cool enough guy; sensitive and sweet.” She said trying to encourage him.
“How do you know I’m sensitive and sweet?” he asked, “you’ve talked to me for like…five minutes.”
“Well, insensitive guys don’t go off alone to think about love and sweet guys don’t sit with strange girls who talk way too much.”
“You don’t talk too much…you may be a little strange,” he laughed, “but I kind of like it.”
“And you have a sense of humor. See, you will find someone.”
“Well, maybe. But maybe, like you said, it’s not for everyone. Maybe it’s not so great.”
“Whoa! I never said love wasn’t great. Love is the greatest thing ever!”
“What makes love so great then?” he asked.
“I once read love is a worthy trade, you lose all your freedoms but in return you get a wonderful friend.” She said.
That was the best commentary of love he had ever heard. He suddenly didn’t care about his friends, or not finding that “someone”. He just enjoyed her company.
They continued to talk. They discussed their majors, general interests, music, movies, family; everything one could talk about for hours on end. They discovered they thought very much alike; they shared the same interests, the same tastes in most everything; they even both possessed the same morbid sense of humor. After a couple of hours of sitting alone at the top of the stair well, she looked at her watch.
“Wow, it’s really late, I have to go get ready for work.” She gathered her things and began down the stairs.
“Well, wait,” he called after her. He took the entire couple of hours contemplating with himself to ask her on a date. “Do you think…you might wanna…go out sometime or something…I dunno?”
“That would be fun but…”
“But.” He said shaking his head, expecting the response. She raised her left hand and pointed to her bare ring finger with her thumb.
“I’m engaged.” she said.
“But there’s no ring.” He observed.
“Well, love is more than a ring….and…he… couldn’t afford one….so…yeah.”
“Well then forget I asked.” He said, again turning pink. He never felt as stupid as he did right then.
“Don’t worry, there is someone out there for you; you’ll find her, I’m one hundred percent sure of it.” She told him.
“Yeah,” he said, “I guess there is. I just have to find her first, don’t I?”
“Yeah I guess so,” she agreed. “But hey! Look on the bright side,” she started back up the stairs, “I don’t think you are annoying, and I’m sure you don’t think I am either…So…Hi! My name is…”
“No names,” he cut her off, “This way we can be those prefect strangers we met at the top of the stair well. Not, I just got rejected by this engaged girl named.”
“Fair enough,” she smiled at him, “I enjoyed talking with you, Stranger.”
“I had a good time too, Stranger.” He smiled back at her.
She turned and continued down the stairs, out of his sight; his smile never faded. He slung his back pack over his shoulder, turned on some music and walked away from the top of the stair well.
Lately, he had been thinking about love at the top of the stair well. All his friends found someone; they were all getting married to the people they loved and leaving to start their new lives. They were leaving him alone, to sit in a stairwell alone, and think about love. He didn’t have a great track record with relationships. Every once and a while he would find a girl he would become quite infatuated with, and on occasions it would become serious. However, nothing ever worked out. People would tell him to just date around and he might find some one, but he was never comfortable with dating around. The way he saw it, why waste the time?
So there he sat, scribbling away in his notebook, listening to music; thinking about love. He couldn’t hear the foot steps making their way up the stairs, but when they came to a stop he could see a couple of small naked feet, decorated with red nail polish. He stopped his music and looked up. In front of him stood a petite girl; she had curly brown hair that fell half way down her back, big brown eyes framed perfectly by glasses and a small mouth, with lips pressed together, smiling as far across her cheeks as they could. She wore a short sleeve checkered shirt and a purposely wrinkled skirt that reached her ankles, somewhat highlighting her bare feet.
“You look like you need a friend.” She said to him as if they knew each other.
“Do I?” He replied, he had no idea who she was, but he already kind of liked her.
“Yes, you do. Anyone who sits alone at the top of a stairwell needs a friend.” She stated as if it were a known fact.
“Well, I guess that could be true…”
“Oh it is,” she interrupted, “trust me I know, I sit up here alone a lot, and every time, I could use a friend.”
“Weird, I’m up here quite often myself and I’ve never seen you.”
“Well, I’ve seen you walking up and down these stairs many times.” She leaned towards him and whispered a secret, “I just wait for you to leave so I can have my secret spot to myself.”
“Well,” he said putting his things in his bag, “I guess I will leave you to your secret spot. Have fun.” He stood up, grabbed his back pack and began down the stairs. He wasn’t sure why he was leaving, she didn’t ask him to go. Half way down the first flight of stairs, he stopped and turned to the girl.
“Could you use a friend right now?” he asked expecting a “no” type response.
“I could always use a friend.” she said smiling as she moved over towards the wall, “Have a seat.”
He walked back up and took a seat next to the girl.
“Thanks,” he reached his hand out to greet her, “my name is…”
“No names.” She interrupted him as she shook his hand.
“Why not?” he laughed.
“Well, what if we talk, and we find out we really don’t like each other, or that we’re really annoying and we go back to our friends and tell them, I met this really annoying girl named…”
“Okay.” He said not knowing where she was going with it.
“Well, if we don’t know each others names, we can’t tell them who was really annoying. It saves our names from being forever labeled as annoying to you, me or anyone we ever tell about this meeting.”
“Sounds reasonable.” he said, still laughing at her quirkiness. “By the way, were you aware you are missing your shoes?”
“Yes, I was aware of that. They are in my bag.”
“They don’t do much good in there do they?”
“Well, no I suppose not, but feet are meant to be naked. I don’t see how anyone wears shoes all the time, makes feet all smelly and gross…” she said wrinkling up her face and shaking her head.
“I guess they do.” He laughed. He had never met anyone so willing to be this open this quickly; especially to a perfect stranger.
“So, what were you thinking about up here, all alone?” she asked him.
“Nothing.” He responded.
“No one thinks about nothing, especially when they are alone. Maybe when someone is talking to you, I could see zoning out and thinking about nothing, but not when your thoughts are the only things keeping you company.”
“You sure seem to know a lot about how people think.” She shrugged her shoulders, and raised her eyebrows.
“Well if you must know, I was thinking about love.” His cheeks grew pink out of embarrassment.
“Ooh, fun…I love, love!” she sang. “So what part of love?”
“Oh you know, the love that everyone else seems to find that you can’t.” he said then he caught himself, “But it’s not like I sit up here and sulk, or anything.” He didn’t want to sound pathetic.
“No it’s okay. We are humans, we naturally want to feel love and when we don’t, we sulk. It’s the two constants in human nature…we love, and want love. And we sulk. It’s nothing we can control, it just happens; like breathing.” The way she talked made him smile.
“Well, still I’m not sulking. It would just be cool to find “her” or whatever that means.”
“Maybe you will, or maybe you won’t.” She said without thinking how it sounded to him.
“Thanks for that.” he said, acting defeated.
“Well, it’s just…” she explained herself, “it’s just some people are meant to find that “other” and some aren’t. It’s part of life. And there is nothing wrong with either. So, just out of curiosity, I’m assuming you don’t have a girlfriend, or anything?”
“That’s a pretty good guess.” He wanted to ask her about a boyfriend but didn’t want to seem eager.
“Well, you will find someone. You seem like a cool enough guy; sensitive and sweet.” She said trying to encourage him.
“How do you know I’m sensitive and sweet?” he asked, “you’ve talked to me for like…five minutes.”
“Well, insensitive guys don’t go off alone to think about love and sweet guys don’t sit with strange girls who talk way too much.”
“You don’t talk too much…you may be a little strange,” he laughed, “but I kind of like it.”
“And you have a sense of humor. See, you will find someone.”
“Well, maybe. But maybe, like you said, it’s not for everyone. Maybe it’s not so great.”
“Whoa! I never said love wasn’t great. Love is the greatest thing ever!”
“What makes love so great then?” he asked.
“I once read love is a worthy trade, you lose all your freedoms but in return you get a wonderful friend.” She said.
That was the best commentary of love he had ever heard. He suddenly didn’t care about his friends, or not finding that “someone”. He just enjoyed her company.
They continued to talk. They discussed their majors, general interests, music, movies, family; everything one could talk about for hours on end. They discovered they thought very much alike; they shared the same interests, the same tastes in most everything; they even both possessed the same morbid sense of humor. After a couple of hours of sitting alone at the top of the stair well, she looked at her watch.
“Wow, it’s really late, I have to go get ready for work.” She gathered her things and began down the stairs.
“Well, wait,” he called after her. He took the entire couple of hours contemplating with himself to ask her on a date. “Do you think…you might wanna…go out sometime or something…I dunno?”
“That would be fun but…”
“But.” He said shaking his head, expecting the response. She raised her left hand and pointed to her bare ring finger with her thumb.
“I’m engaged.” she said.
“But there’s no ring.” He observed.
“Well, love is more than a ring….and…he… couldn’t afford one….so…yeah.”
“Well then forget I asked.” He said, again turning pink. He never felt as stupid as he did right then.
“Don’t worry, there is someone out there for you; you’ll find her, I’m one hundred percent sure of it.” She told him.
“Yeah,” he said, “I guess there is. I just have to find her first, don’t I?”
“Yeah I guess so,” she agreed. “But hey! Look on the bright side,” she started back up the stairs, “I don’t think you are annoying, and I’m sure you don’t think I am either…So…Hi! My name is…”
“No names,” he cut her off, “This way we can be those prefect strangers we met at the top of the stair well. Not, I just got rejected by this engaged girl named.”
“Fair enough,” she smiled at him, “I enjoyed talking with you, Stranger.”
“I had a good time too, Stranger.” He smiled back at her.
She turned and continued down the stairs, out of his sight; his smile never faded. He slung his back pack over his shoulder, turned on some music and walked away from the top of the stair well.