'Drew 2

What was I going to study? I don't know.

"I just feel like there's so much to do"

I liked to talk to myself out loud, not like in a crazy way, more like, in a- to help me process information sort of way.

"God that assignment for journalism club is due"

Alright got that done. Anything else? Or can I dream about boys again? Might as well book the next Russian lesson, fine let me do that. Those English papers I can worry about over the break. Another class today at 6pm. Am I hungry?

Thundering into the room, my roommate. He slammed his bag on his bed and stood in the corner of the room, his hanging wall mirror displayed his left bisection and to his right, his closet. And to his back- my peripheral eye. This was a bit theatrical even for him so I poked my eye in his direction, past the invisible boundary of respect for 'his side' of the room. 

"I don't know whether to punch something or cry"

 "What's going on?"

Walking over towards his bed, keeping his back to me to the best of his ability. He paused in front of his bed before leaning over it, his face resting on the back of his hands on his bed cover.

"I'm going to miss my grandmothers 90th birthday"

He started crying. I had literally no fucking idea what to do. My first instinct, the most human, was to go to him, to hold him, to console him. Oh my days! My first instinct was to go to my husband!  And comfort him in his time of emotional instability! But of course, this isn't a movie, I had to calm myself. 

We've talked, me and Andrew. He knows I'm gay- or, I don't use that word, not because I have a problem with it, but because I don't think its big enough to encompass all of my interests. Anyways. I didn't want to cross any boundaries. Because jeez! I don't know! He's straight or I think He's straight. And maybe I am sort of spiritual and I don't believe in bending the will of sovereign agents, I don't participate in manipulation. So, I just felt like, a tender moment like that, touching him, holding him, maybe He wouldn't have recoiled, maybe he would have appreciated it, and maybe it would have brought us closer. But I don't want to draw any nearer to him without his sober permission out of respect for what he has told me: "I'm straight". 

But I did approach anyway, I couldn't not, it wasn't about sex or anything like that. I would have for anyone and I don't know maybe it's because I was raised by a woman. I touched his lower back and asked:

"Hey are you ok?"

"You don't have to do that, I'm fine"

But I wanted to do it and so much more. I eased back at his statement. 

He cried for a while longer, I sat on the wooden rolly bed side table turned room centerpiece, ready to speak when he was. Still leaning over his bed He righted himself some and rotated his body towards me a bit.

"Its fucking too much, I'd have to be in Pittsburg in 48 hours"

His eyes red and puffy, pretty crystal orbs of sparkling water clung to his eye lashes. His beautiful eyes and face visible for a brief moment before turning away from me again. He spoke with his back turned to me. As embarrassed as he was making a show of being, I remembered the conversation we had one night a while ago. Both of us awake, laying in our separate beds, staring out into the darkness, talking to one another. I remember one night we touched on expectations for men, I asked him when the last time was that he cried, he gave me a duration of time to which I replied 'that's not normal.' 

I don't know if that had anything to do with it, but,  of all the emotions swirling, there was a deep and intimate sense of gratitude. Gratitude that He trusted me enough to display this aspect of himself in front of me at all. He certainly could have cried in the bathroom, shower, the storage closet. But he let himself go here, with me.

"Its just too fucking much, I'm going to miss her birthday, she's 90. and by the time it ends it'll be Tuesday and then I'd have to fly back or drive back 7 hours. I'm still sick I haven't fully recovered. Its just too much."

what could I say? I would have done anything to lessen his pain in that moment.

"You gotta tell me what I can do"

He chuckled.

"I appreciated that- I appreciate that. But there is 100% nothing anyone can do."

I loved it when he stuttered, we held that in common when we became exhausted.