Autumn of my thoughts

Finally, I can say that summer has come to an end in Loftheaven. The weather, once stifling and dry, is now mild and very pleasant. With the arrival of autumn, I also hope for a change in the air and my surroundings. Everything is as it should be: my apartment remains clean and organized; my running habit is on track; my reading, which was once mediocre for reasons I still don't know, has improved greatly. I managed to finish a 400-page book in 3 days.

I am focused. Now everything seems more certain and objective, with no obstacles to hinder me. For example, if I want to try a recipe I saw online: I go to the supermarket, buy the ingredients, come home, and cook. Simple. If I want to complete the game I'm playing: I start, do what I need to do, and finish it. Simple. Everything is going well for me; it's the new autumnal climate.

But one thing I haven't done yet: talk directly to Levi. I really want to explain everything that happened, tell him who I really am, where I come from, and ask why he doesn't remember me. However, I lack the courage. The obstacles that don't exist in other areas of my life are now, stronger than ever, present when it comes to Levi.

I'm afraid of his reaction, or worse, of no reaction; of the lack of reaction. On one hand, I like to think that what we had was stronger and he hasn't forgotten, or that he wanted to forget because I was transient, and that's what I fear. For me, something can be unforgettable, lovable, a safe haven. But it may be that he doesn't see it that way. I may have just been a seasonal friend, one of those who doesn't have a place in memory, easily erased by time.

Overcoming is what anyone would tell me if I told them what I'm going through. Oh, if it were as easy as the written word... Overcoming; a word derived from the Latin superatĭo, ōnis, meaning: "Action of overcoming, achieving, obtaining". Overcoming what? Achieving what? Obtaining what? I know there are other ways to interpret overcoming; other contexts in which overcoming is the right word, but for me, now is not the time for overcoming. Maybe later, when everything is resolved, but for now, I'll just try to understand what happened with him.

I have one more month of classes to try to talk to him, otherwise, never again; we'll drift apart again, and time, somehow, will cut the little of the bond we have — or that I think we have —.

When I was still in Downcity, I received a message in response to mine. From Levi. But somehow I didn't want to open it; I ignored it. Not because I'm an absent person, or don't want to talk to him, but because I want to know how to speak. To have the best words to use. I think part of what I'm trying to do would be to "assimilate" myself with the Daany he knew. Who was a calm, peaceful person and often, very introspective — perhaps too much —. I know it's not the right thing to do, because I, like him, grew up and shaped differently. We're not children anymore; I shouldn't act like when I was one. Today's Levi is not the same as 10 years ago, or even 7 years ago when he distanced himself from me. So, I think in a way, I must be myself, just myself. It was by being me that he came; I will continue to be me, because maybe, he'll come back.

I'm not very attentive to my phone. Many times, I forget I even have it. I use it more for listening to music, navigating — even after four years living in Loftheaven, I still get lost — or tracking how many miles I've run.

I set a goal in my mind: I will be attentive to all the messages Levi sends me and try to respond as quickly as possible.

I pick up my phone and go straight to the message Levi sent me, which was dated 7 days ago:

I'm doing well too.

Just a few adjustments left on Mr. Skyle's project, but it's almost all done.

Do you think it's best for us to meet up to finish it? Or would you prefer to do it separately at each of our homes?

I don't meet Levi often, only at college, in Mr. Skyle's class, and for a short period of time; or in the college cafeteria, also for a short period of time. I want to make the most of every moment I can have with him. Because classes are ending, and I have only one certainty: I'm leaving Loftheaven and not going back to Downcity.

For a moment, I think about the best way to respond, but I can't find one. So, I write the message the best way I think:

Levi, sorry for disappearing.

The deadline for the project submission is next week, isn't it?!

So, what do you think about us meeting again at the library to finalize it? We can use the printers there.

After writing, I stare at the potential message; I think and rethink if I should send it in this more "casual" way. I seriously consider not sending it, or maybe redoing it in a more formal manner like:

Oh dear Mr. LineMoon, forgive me for my absence.

I have been quite insensitive in not responding to you promptly.

You have every right to resent me.

Once again, I beg for mercy for all that I have caused you.

I will go directly to the esteemed educator Mr. Joseph Skyle and inform him to grant full credit on your grade regarding the assignment we were to undertake...

I think about how excessive formality can be awkward. So, I just stick with the first message I wrote and send it.

The late afternoon in Loftheaven is beautiful, despite the pollution that covers the entire sky. With the end of my internship, I have plenty of time. So, all afternoon, I do nothing; just read, run, or simply sleep. I spend a lot of time at home, I don't have the habit of going out, only for college, previously for the internship, the library, and sometimes, the Pub Moon.

I feel like going for a walk, but a walk without direction, without thinking about anything. Just wandering around Loftheaven. I decide I'm going to do just that. Before leaving, I check all the windows, take the elevator, and quickly reach the ground floor — it surprises me how fast this elevator is, considering the antiquity of this building —. I step outside and find Rutherford Avenue very calm. Despite it being a Monday and rush hour, there are few cars passing by here, and they're moving quickly, not allowing time for traffic jams or anything like that.

I walk along the sidewalk that runs alongside the avenue. On this side of the city, the residential and commercial areas are practically one. Thus, it's possible to notice the numerous buildings with shops on the ground floor. I pass by a store called "Kittens' Care" with a picture of two kittens, one white and one orange, playing with a ball of yarn. I can hear the meows from inside — at some moments, I think about adopting a cat, but then I remember Jujuba, and the idea falls through —, the long glass facade allows me to observe its interior. It seems to be a very pleasant environment; I notice some padded chairs inside, some tables too, and many, many objects referencing kittens, like a large poster of a kitten riding a rocket.

I walk a little further and catch a very good smell of food; I'm passing by "Lotus Garden", a Chinese restaurant. For a Monday, the flow inside the establishment is very large. I notice about 30 people. I think a lot about going in and ordering something to eat, but I leave it for another time.

There are numerous shops that extend along the entire avenue; in all the time I've lived here, I've only frequented the small market a few feet from the building where I live; the pharmacy, where the attendant knows exactly what I'm going to buy because I've been buying the same thing for years: Tylenol and mint throat lozenges. I'm allergic to pollen, so I don't feel well in the spring, my throat hurts for about 3 consecutive days, hence the Tylenol, and after it passes, it gets swollen, very swollen, so the mint candies do the trick.

As I walk for about 10 minutes, I find myself in a small square with a large clock that stretches about 32'8" high. It's a very cozy and pleasant place. There are a few benches to sit on; I sit on one and FINALLY manage to connect with the embrace of Loftheaven. Everything is so fine and calm in my life that I start to truly feel embraced — the city's slogan lived up to its name —.

Sitting on one of the benches, I begin to notice everything around me: an elderly lady walking alongside a gentleman; a mother with a child, walking together with a puppy on a leash; a teenager rollerblading with 3 friends. Everything is peaceful.

In the square, there's also a small fountain that changes color every hour. The current color is red; I'd like to stay until it changes from red, perhaps to green or blue.

I left home in the late afternoon, so the sun was already far on the horizon, plunging the entire city into darkness, now illuminated only by the streetlights. I decide to head home as I'm feeling a bit sleepy. It was a short walk, but it did me good. I managed to breathe a bit, feel a bit more of the city.

Before returning to my apartment, I stop by "Lotus Garden" and grab a ramen to go. It's been years since I've had one, so I decide to indulge a little. Arriving home, I notice that changes have indeed happened because the atmosphere, which weeks ago was heavy and murky, is now not. The air is peaceful, my vision is clear and objective, everything is fine. I sit on the couch, turn on the television, tune in to a cartoon channel — I may be a young adult who should act as such, but a good cartoon has its value, and I can't deny that —, grab my ramen, and end my night in the best way possible.

The weather this morning pleases me greatly; it's raining. Ideally, I would stay at home wrapped in blankets and make a good hot chocolate, but that's not how I find myself; I'm on my way to college. The last bus I take to get to my destination, on sunny days, is usually crowded, but today, I believe because of the rain, it's practically empty. Therefore, I manage to find a seat. I like to observe the landscape as I pass by, whether going to college, returning from it, heading to Downcity, or heading to Loftheaven — I haven't traveled to many places, so the only route I know is from Downcity to Loftheaven, or vice versa —.

Loftheaven is a very green city; there are trees lining every street, tracing the path for cars, buses, motorcycles, and bicycles. Flowers are also abundant; they have a direct connection with the trees, as wherever there's a tree, there's a flower bed, small but still flower beds.

I get off at the bus stop, which is a few feet from the entrance of the college. The rain is now lighter and doesn't soak me as much; I can walk without having to run to escape it. As I walk towards the entrance, I can only notice the cars arriving to park; they're all very expensive. I don't envy them; it's just a personal observation. I find myself thinking at times about what my future will be like; if I'll have a house, a car — it doesn't have to be luxurious, as long as it's a good car, that's what matters —, if I'll get married, if I'll have children... My future is too uncertain.

When I'm about 16 ft away from the entrance, Eric Devon, who was coming in his car a little behind me, starts to match my pace with his black Porsche 911. He rolls down the window and says:

— Hey Starstrock, need a ride?

After that, he rolls up the window and accelerates, causing the water that had accumulated by the curb to splash towards me, but I was faster and managed to dodge it before getting wet.

Eric Devon is one of those typical jerks who has no substance, and everyone sucks up to him for a false status and a false sense of belonging. I don't care about what he did to me because there's only one month of classes left, and nothing will break my positive aura, not Eric Devon, not Mr. Skyle, not anyone.

Upon arriving in the classroom before everyone else, as usual, I decide to check my phone to see if there's any message from Levi, and indeed there is:

Hi Dan. Everything okay, I think it's a good idea to finish the project in the library.

What do you think about doing it on Wednesday?

By the way, what do you think happened to Mr. Skyle for him to cancel classes for the week?

I can't believe I left home for nothing today; I could've been perfectly fine sleeping wrapped in my duck-patterned comforter. I didn't see Mr. Skyle's email informing us of his absence for this week. I decide to check my email inbox to confirm this speculation. And indeed, it was there. In a brief email, Mr. Skyle says:

To all who are part of my student body, I come through this to clarify my future absence.

I will be absent from my teaching activity for a period of 5 days; from september 3rd, 2024 to september 9th, 2024.

I briefly thank everyone for their attention and understanding — could the teachers send a more light-hearted and relaxed email? Like: So folks, I'll be away for a few days. But, I'll be back. So chill out! —

My mind alerts me to something that went unnoticed. I don't remember what it was, so I decide to reread Mr. Skyle's email, thinking it was about him, but it wasn't. I try to sift through my thoughts for an answer until it comes to me: LEVI'S EMAIL. I read it attentively, paying attention to everything, but I don't find anything... Until deep down, I feel something saying to me: "Look how he referred to you... Dan...".

Negate to myself that fact, thinking it's just something in my head, and read the email once again, and it's really there: "Dan". The only people who call me Dan are Sean, Aaron, my grandfather Charles, Levi's parents, and... the old Levi... the Levi from my memories...

For a moment, everything around me feels strange, time starts passing differently; the room is empty, so I decide to sit in a desk before I collapse. Everything is what I'll call singular. It's all the same as everything and at the same time the same as nothing — strange to understand, but I know what's happening —.

The reason for my current breakdown is Levi calling me Dan, Dan, DAN, DDDAAANNN. The nickname he used to call me when we were kids.

My mind is processing the information in a different way; variables are emerging like tiny sparks from all sides of my thoughts. A duality forms in my mind, there are "2 Danys" probing my thoughts; contradicting each other every second: He might have remembered me... He just made a typo... He definitely remembered me... He just made a typo, stop being crazy... He's my friend, my only friend, he definitely remembered... NO, he didn't remember... His parents might have told him about my visit... No, his parents didn't tell him. They pity you because you're a poor soul... No, his parents love me... You're pathetically forgettable in everyone's life, just one more among the many... STOP, STOP, STOP!!!

I can't feel my legs anymore, nor my arms; everything is tingling. My vision is blurred, I feel my lips drying out. I feel my mouth begging for some water. Until I hear a very loud bang in my ears, completely blocking my hearing. Everything around is of a blurry tone, starting to become clear, very clear... It becomes clear to the point where I can't keep my eyes open; until everything fades away, like a switch being flipped...

Silence... Emptiness... Loss...