G.O. Two Page Draft – Google Doc
The mighty ocean waves crashed against the rocks with beautiful, yet fearful vigor, the salt water splashing straight into the air and beginning the dive bomb back towards the ground, right on me and Winter. She laughed and I mumbled a few obscenities, obviously pissed off from being completely drenched with sea water filled with decomposing sea plants and fish and whatever the hell else is in that stuff. “Ha-ha,” I said, still annoyed. While Winter didn’t bother to wipe the salt water droplets off her face, the taste of it on my lips made my face scrunch up and my stomach turn. I never liked the ocean. Cold and ready to leave, we made our way back to my blue ‘05 Subaru Impreza – 16 years young, same age as me and Winter.
She has shoulder-length black hair and bright blue eyes, bright like ice but not so cold. She originally lived in New York City where her parents made a living through creating art. Her father was an Impressionist painter, her mother a prolific writer. They moved to my small town called Mystic, Connecticut, because her mother had gotten very ill and wanted to live in a peaceful place for her final days. Winter’s mother passed away before I met her, and she has never opened up to me about the pain she endures because of it. I leave it that way because I know she does not want me to know. She seems happy enough, so I don’t worry.
People have described me as something like a storm cloud, angrily floating from one place to the next. If that is true, which I don’t doubt, I would describe Winter as a partly sunny day. There is a cloud there, but the sun is always peaking through so you never pay attention to the cloud part, just the light peaking through in beautiful rays. Like everyone else, she calls me angry. I call it frustration. I’m frustrated with the world and all of its shittiness and how everybody ignores it and moves through life as though they are okay, when no one is really okay. To have a true sight of reality is to be sadder, because reality is sad. When Winter came into my life I found someone who made things a little less shitty and slightly less sad. Except when I get soaked in gross saltwater.
“Do you want to head home?” I asked her as she got into my passenger seat. “No,” she responded, “Let’s drive around for a little while and listen to some music!” Of course I had to spend more gas money, I thought.
I turned on some nineties grunge and closed my eyes, thankful that I didn’t have to return home for a little while longer to the isolation of my room and my severely depressed father. He hasn’t been the same since mom died. While her death changed me, it basically stole my father’s soul. When I talk to him it’s like he’s no longer there. The only way that I can help him is by being strong and acting like things will get better. It’s harder than it seems, but at least Devyn buys it. When he checks in on me I tell him I’m okay and he believes me. It’s much easier to ignore my problems around other people than it is for me to confess that I’m hopelessly breaking. He’s too busy in his angry, chaotic mind to notice anyway. He thinks the world is cruel, everything sucks, nobody is happy, etcetera. Boo-hoo.
I love Devyn, though. Not romantically, of course. He is my best friend, though. When his mind isn’t on fire, his thought process is fascinating. We are two existential humans who cope differently with the reality of living, and it is interesting to hear the thought process behind his persistent anger at the world. Suddenly, a pang of anxiety snapped me out of the inner world of my mind when Devyn asked, “Tommy’s having a party tonight, do you want to go?” I never went to parties at my old school because I wasn’t interested and had a set group of friends who I exclusively hung out with. Now, I’m entering a new school where I know no one, and Devyn wants me to go to a party hosted by his rowdy friend, Tommy. “Yes,” I responded, afraid for him to see my fear, “Sounds like fun!”