When I don’t know something, I gather information. I watch for signs, and in my head I plot data points all day long. I am silent until a trend materializes, and then I speak.
My contemporary cliché of choice is a functional relationship that was never defined as one, and my timeline is graduation, which is two weeks away. Neither of us has said anything. Sometimes I think that no one will. It’s a breath-holding contest, and I’ll breathe out only if I know there’s something to breathe back in—otherwise I prefer the end to be quick, efficient. Until then I study every move and extrapolate and ruminate and wonder why emotion can be such a mental bully. I think that I should not be so scared because I never agreed to these rules, but that’s the problem: I think. Months ago I thought. Months later I’ll probably think again.
Here’s the possible punchline: for all my information-scavenging and analyzing, I actually seem not to be learning much.