Dreary weather

Everyone thinks that scary is cool. Even sexy. They make horror films so couples can go to the theater and cuddle up together and the girl can scream so the guy can hold her and make her feel safe.

Safe until they make out, at least. Or the guy feels her up right in the theater!

It disgusts me.

I know a classy lady at my college. She wouldn't do such a thing.

My mom watches movies with me too.

We watch Hello Dolly and Ever After. She wouldn't put on a stupid horror film. That is beneath us. Superficial. A bore.

It's dreary weather outside my dorm as I write this. I can't see anything outside but blurry trees mixing with dark winds.

I am drowning in my head. The rain feels like a feeling I had gotten rid of a long time ago but now its back.

I don't like feeling lost in this feeling.

I hate feeling in general. I want to lose myself in that muffled weather outside. I want to pretend I am a haze or fog. I want to see only smoke.

My life has been this way for so long. I might as well have the picture match the images in my messed up brain. My college courses are so unnatural. They make us try to dredge up fake feelings for art and films in my art history class.

I don’t want to have emotions about something that I can’t feel or hear or touch. The Virgin by Klimt terrified me.

Such softness and intimacy in a sense of cloudy and warm colors gave me an itchy and unwelcome feeling. I had a headache by the end of the class.

My friend Andre and I eat lunch outside after the rain stops.

His dreads looks droopy from the weather and he’s complaining.

“This friggin’ after rain smell, what is it? Petrichor?” He says with his nose scrunched up. “I hate it. Everyone says oh, I love how it looks and smells after it rains!” He grumbles and I chuckle, drinking my tea in a nodding agreement. “But, it stinks!” He spits out.

“It might just be how California smells. Don’t you think?” I reply and he laughs.

“Probably! I actually don’t care for sunny old Cali.” He rolls his eyes. “I know I’m in the minority.”

This is why we’re friends, I think to myself. He’s smart without being pretentious and he doesn’t feel like he has the right to step on others.

I used to not have friends. No one. All by myself for years until I swore to my mom that in college I’d change it all. Now, I’m president of the Greek council and have some pretty hot girls after me.

But, I don’t want them.

I just want Barbara. But, apparently, she’s always busy and never interested in going out.

He pats down his frizzy dreads anxiously as he eats his sandwich in small, eager bites.

“I always feel it’s less lonely when it rains. No one likes to go out when the weather is dreary, ya know?” Andre says.

I scratch my head, frowning a little bit nodding slowly. “It’s a strange thing. The rain. Everyone has to stay home and not go out when the weather is bad. Like how we feel when it’s sunny and we have no where to go or don’t want to go out, but everyone is out.”

Andre makes a clicking noise with his tongue against his teeth. “Exactly! Though, knowing we’re in the same frat together is kind of going away from what we preach. We are a part of something.”

I pause and think about his words and the hypocrisy I might be building up with my status and my ego.

Like watching the same horror story over and over and pretending it’s going to change, I find myself smiling.

It’s not a happy smile. It’s not a joyful feeling. The colors of the memory fades inside my vision. The vision of a clouded pressure inside of my body. The Virgin was me and they were stuffed inside my guts. I couldn’t eject them. I was them. My hollow bones creapt up like a ghostlier version of my mother’s call. And I felt as though I were cracked and burst open. Spoiled and sweet and evil and dirty.

He looks at me funny and says, “Bro, what’s up? You look dazed.”

The girls walking past us giggle loudly. Andre rolls his eyes at them.

He looks at me and says softly, “John, are you okay, man? I saw you looking the same way during art class.”

“I always felt like I wanted this unreachable, intangible power…”

“Like a wizard?” Andre dead-pans and I laugh.

“Hmm,” I smile. “Yeah. Maybe.”

We finish up our lunch and we go back to our dorm.

Andre suggests we watch a movie.

“It’s called Ringu. An old Japanese horror film, got it on tape. I’m old school that way!” He says proudly and taps his chest with his thumb.

“Don’t like horror much… I guess I’ll watch it,” I say.

Andre shrugs. “Got to respect the classics.” The rain starts pattering again outside as go inside. “Especially when the weather is dreadful and dreary.”

I nod and feel less lonely as I know everything is in its place and everyone is safe at home. Especially sweet and classy Barbara.

Dreary weather can be scary.