Sarawat's Story

Part XXVI: The Derailing Train of Thought

The Student Union doors closed behind me, but the heaviness I had felt in the lobby continued to press upon me in the muggy evening air. An agonizing pounding ached in my head, and my jaws were clenched so tightly that my gums hurt. Deep exhales pushed from my nose, and the humid air I inhaled did nothing to relieve the tightness in my chest or the racing of my heart. I couldn't even unclench my hands, balled into white-knuckled fists at my sides.

Exhale, Wat.

Inhale.

Exhale.

My eyes hurt from the glare of the sun hovering just slightly above the horizon, and squinting did little to help me focus. The campus lawn buzzed with the usual end of the day hustle and bustle: two hundred or more students, professors, and staff members moving in all directions. My eyes darted here to there, person to person, uniform to uniform, face to face, until they all blended into a sea of white and blue, their gaits like waves in water. Still, I tried to find Tine among the crowd.

Into my immediate vision, hopping up the steps in front of me, a young, familiar-looking woman smiled broadly at me. How I knew her – a member of the Sarawat's Wives' Club, I was sure – reignited the tempers simmering inside of me. But she could not have known what was boiling behind my stone face when she paused directly in front of me. "Hi, Sarawat!" she cooed, her voice babylike and sickening.

"Fuck off," I whispered, staring straight through her.

She gasped and covered her mouth with both hands. Her eyes bulged, and she stared, paralyzed, before me.

"Didn't you hear me," I growled low. "Fuck... off."

Her face reddened as she lowered her head and hurried past me into the building.

I scanned the crowd again, knowing, as I'd subconsciously known when I first stepped outside, that Tine was gone. I had held out slim hope that he would pop out of the crowd, and we would hug and kiss right there on the steps in front of everyone. Then, he and I would return to the Student Union and curse out Achara and Prija until they cried. But my hope was a fantasy that would not come true, and I struggled to accept it.

I dug into my pocket for my phone. I stared at it, cradling it in my hands like a treasure when two thoughts struck me.

Tine hasn't called or texted.

I don't know what to say, even if he does.

Suddenly, inexplicably, I feared hearing his voice.

What is wrong with me?

I wanted to say something reassuring to Tine and make him smile and laugh. But this time, this separation from him felt different.

I looked out over the crowd, and the loneliness I felt amplified the aches in my body.

I gotta get out of here.

I don't remember the walk home. I don't remember much of what happened after I'd decided to leave campus. One moment, I was standing on the steps of the Student Union, then suddenly, I was in the doorway of my darkened apartment, afraid to go in but afraid to be outside any longer. 

I tossed my bag onto the floor, slid out of my shoes, and dragged my feet to the couch. I plopped down and looked around.

My appetite was gone, and the thought of food bitterly reminded me of the ruined dinner plans Tine and I had made. For a second, I eyed the liquor bottles on the counter – "You need a drink!" they seemed to call to me – but the knots in my stomach only tightened more when I thought of alcohol. I stared at the blank TV screen with the remote control on the coffee table in front of me, but I didn't want to watch anything. And I didn't want to hear any music either.