you'll kill me if you stop ☼ call me by your name & kill your darlings

two

the back to school social was supposed to be taking place the following evening. i sat lying on the bed in my dorm, which i refused to call 'my bed' yet because it wan't my bed, i was just borrowing it. 

the door was open to my dorm because my roommate left it open when he left to go to the social. he made sure to assure me that the only reason he was even going was to hook up with a girl or two. 

i decided that i should probably go to the event myself, meet some other kids, writers even. then it was brought to my attention that i hadn't written, or even start to write anything since i arrived at columbia. i scoffed at myself. 

the typewriter i used at home, which used to be my dad's, sat on the desk, untouched. me and that typewriter, we were the same, as of this moment. brought to a new place, holding such a capacity for greatness, but still silent in the harsh wind of other people existing through the same reality. 

checking my appearance in the mirror, making sure my hair wasn't looking too hectic, and slipping on some shoes, i walked through the door, which i had accustomed to being open, and towards the social. 

i find lots of things more fascinating then they maybe should be. for example, when we walk, we are pushing the whole earth in the opposite direction we're going, and the reason the planet doesn't just turn into a giant treadmill, other than the fact that it has a much greater mass than i do, is becuase we're all walking in different directions, and it all just cancels out. or, at least i like to think that's how it works. it gives me a purpose.

at home, if i didn't get up and go get the mail, then the whole balance would be off, becuase someone was walking in the other direction and unfairly pulling the earth that way. i felt as if had to put things right. 

it's not like i think the world revolves around me, and i'm not conceited, but i like to find a sense of meaning in everything. i analyze. i figure out. 

as i followed another freshman to the social, something inside me told me to turn around. i started walking in the other direction, maybe restoring the balance or even putting it off, becuase a faint sound of music was floating down the hall. i was intrigued. 

the choice whether or not to enter a room is a very hard one. most times we decide subconsciously, logical reasoning telling us why or why not we should enter, but there are some cases in which you freeze and all reasoning goes away. 

should i or shouldn't? yes or no? those are the only options, and they keep asking each other, over and over until you are forced to choose simply becuase one is louder than the other, and not becuase you feel one is more right. 

yes. i should. 

i ran a hand through my hair and tried to make myself look suave as i peeked my head inside the room. 

"finally! i thought you'd never come. i was going to play bach, but liszt just called your name," the figure said, his crisp words from liquid thoughts filling the room at a volume so only we could share them.

i had no words, crisp or otherwise. i stood in the doorway and stared at him-- the boy from the library. the debate team prom king. 

yes or no? yes or no? i kept choosing 'or' and the sides yelled louder in my head. 

"i don't bite," he said, with even more ease than the previous phrase. he stood up from his chair, cigarette in hand, and walked over to the small window in whichever room this even was, most likely his dorm. 

my eyes followed the movement of his mouth as he spoke. the ripe fruit of his lips made music sweeter than the sonata playing from the record. his shirt, a white button down, was fairly see-through, and i tried to find the muscles in his back. he turned around, catching my stare.