Imprints 2: Entire Relationships in One Paragraph
1. The next morning I think it might be awkward, but it’s not. He asks if I want to go spend the day at Coney Island, and I want to hug him for listening before but I don’t, I just say yes. We realize before we leave that it’s Easter Sunday, so we both make calls to our families from opposite corners of his apartment before getting Chinese food and not talking much. We spend the whole day together not talking much. We do all the things I’d always wanted to do at Coney Island on a still-cold gray day with a boy I liked, only it’s like a silent movie. On the train ride home, I yawn and he says, “You can put your head on my shoulder and sleep if you want.” I try it for a minute, but it feels so unnatural. Taking my head off his shoulder is more uncomfortable than having it there. My stop comes first, and we don’t kiss goodbye. We don’t call after. Months later, he gets drunk and insists on walking me home from a party. We spend the surreal hours from 4 to 6 am in my room, where he cries about his ex-girlfriend and I pat his hand and then we both fall asleep on my bed together, in a completely unromantic way. I never tell my new boyfriend this part.
2. We are a secret, and we have a rare night alone together. It’s snowing hard outside, and we’re drinking vodka and listening to Let It Bleed. Instead of rushing into things like usual, he offers to make me some dinner while I take off my boots and sit on the radiator in the other room, warming up my wet stockinged feet. We haven’t touched yet. He’s out of an ingredient, so he runs down to the corner store in the snowstorm. While he’s gone, my phone rings and when I answer he says, “You were wearing tights, weren’t you?” I say yes and he exhales and hangs up. “You Got the Silver” comes on the exact moment he walks back through the door.
3. We are lying on my couch, pillows knocked aside, his shirt and sweater on the floor next to my jeans. We have not eaten any food nor left the apartment since he arrived eighteen hours before. The plan for the afternoon was to shower and walk to the pizza place around the corner, but after showering and dressing, the plan got forgotten, and now the sun has set again. His hand is in my hair and we are very quiet. I’m a little bit cold. I suddenly think this may be the happiest I’ve ever been in my entire life. Then I wonder if the hunger pains making me feel faint are clouding my judgment. I decide I don’t care and roll over again.