10/21

We're walking in the woods.  There's three of us and it won't stop raining.  The two girls are up ahead of me.  I can hear remnants of their conversations through the pitter-patter of rain drops on my drawn hood.  Something about photography.  Or trips to Japan.  Or fading friendships.

And though I'd love to be closer to the girl with black hair and pale skin.  The one with the spell binding gaze and silky smooth voice that makes it so hard to follow the sense of her sentences.  The one I haven't stopped thinking about for months, but I don't try to keep up or chime in.  I even slow my pace.  Take a moment or two to stop and look up at the forest.  At the sagging, soaked leaves and moss hanging from sprawling branches.  Let the distance grow between us.

It's not until we reach a quick moving stream that we all come together again.  The water is only ankle high, but the black haired girl did not bring waterproof footwear.  So, when the brunette easily steps through the flowing stream and looks back at us from the other side, I see an opportunity.  A moment to prove my worth.  My value.  Maybe make myself noticed.

I begin picking up larger rocks and placing them on the bed of the stream in a line of sorts.  Shore to shore.  A bridge.

I return to the black haired girl with a smile.  With the water rushing over my boots, seeping in through newly discovered cracks and soaking my wool socks, I smile at her.  But her attention is on the current.  On planning her voyage across.  

So I extend my arm.  Still smiling.  "You can hold my hand," I say, "I'll walk you across."

But my words are hardly out before she's hopped passed me, submerging a foot completely as one of the stones rolls over.  She doesn't pause at all.

Then they're both walking on ahead.  Farther into the forest.  Out of view.  And I'm left in the stream.  With one arm still reaching out for something and a frown that won't go away.