I woke up this morning in her kitchen. I did not plan this, I did not expect this. I was planning on helping her move in. I was a friend
lending a hand, no more, no less. Why then do I feel different today?
She had to leave her house. Her parents and her were always at odds, and her long distance relationship with her steady boyfriend had ended. The emotional distress linked to a seizure and being diagnosed with epilepsy forced her to move closer to school. Commuting was no longer an option. I figured that anything I did would make her life that much easier, and she needed help.
With this in mind I headed to her new place last night. I helped build her new desk, set up her new room, listened to her country music in her new kitchen. At 3 o'clock she decided that I needed rest, but she wouldn't let me go home. The half hour walk through the city in the middle of the night was not something she cared for.
We said our 'good nights,' but our voices had different tones. We no longer spoke in our friendly voices, but in nervous anticipation. We were both unsure of that night and the next morning. She was afraid of her new life, if she made the right decision. I was afraid of myself, the feelings I conjured up were not uncommon, but unwarrented in our relationship. Everything had changed for her, but she still remained the beautiful person I knew her to be, still loving and caring despite the downfalls of previous relationships.
I thought about her more today than I ever have. I saw her face on almost every girl I saw. I know my perception of her has changed. She was with me all through my day, and yet she continued on with her life as if there was nothing different.