To Protect My Honor

Inherent Resolve III

The month that followed seemed as if it was two or three days long. With political drama, my birthday, and the continued development of my renewed friendship with Michaela, I had plenty to have on my mind - and that doesn't count my classes. On November 5, I was thinking about the adjustment that was to be made that night - Standard Time. I don't know why it's called "Standard Time" when it is in place for a minority of the year.

Even so, I was on a walk, alone. Which is not necessarily a bad thing. I just wanted some time to think about life. I had been listening to music before I left, and at that moment, strains of "I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For" rang throughout my mind. I thought about how knowing if you have found what you're looking for is contingent on knowing what it is you're looking for.

I hadn't even gotten there yet.

Downtown was crowded, as it was lunchtime on a Saturday. I sat on a bench, contemplating my next move. Should I go home? I had no idea. Not knowing what to do, I soon found myself drifting off to sleep.

A pang of anxiety woke me up about an hour later. 

I sat bolt upright, startled by the thought I had just had. 

While the thought soon faded, my anxiety had been high over the past few months due to the presidential election - whichever way it went, I thought, America was sunk. But that was just my opinion.

And now, I could vote, which was not the case four years earlier. I had not even decided on a candidate. 

I walked home. My mom had lunch ready for me for a while upon my arrival.

I brought up the election, and Eva asked, "If Victoria ran for President, would you vote for her?"

"I'll answer that when she gets to be thirty-five," I said. "It doesn't matter now."

"How old is she now?"

"Eighteen, I think."

"What's her birthday," asked Eva.

"I'm pretty sure it's June 11."

"So on June 11, 2033, you will tell me."

"That's a promise," I said.

Once I was home from class on the following Thursday, I took a walk with Michaela.

"So, uh, Trump pulled off the impossible," she said.

"Let's not talk about Trump."

"Okay. Anyway, what time is it?"

"It's 4:34," I said.

"Then we should start heading home," she said. "It'll be dark soon and it's getting cold."

"Okay."

More rock music played in my head. She was right, it was chilly. Then again, in Pasadena, "chilly" means 60 degrees. 

"I'm going to see a play tomorrow night from PCC's theater department," I said.

"That doesn't sound like you."

"It's not. Angela Ware invited me."

Angela was a mutual friend of ours, she worked at Michaela's new place of employment and studied with me.

"Oh, okay. Which play?"

"Wilder's Our Town."

"Never heard of it. But have fun!"

"It's really well known," I said. "And thanks!"

"What are you waiting for?"

"Sorry," I said. "The sunset...."