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JOYCE: 21.0 THE CONFERENCE

I found you without looking, and love you without trying. - Mark Anthony

Sometimes we lose ourselves within ourselves. Occasionally, it requires more than a gentle word or a coaxing nudge to pull us from the deep end. It takes anguish, suffering, hardship- for pain is a great teacher in humility.

Daniel dragged me to the shallow. He taught me to how to need him through the dreary torture of his absence and the bliss of his kiss. He'd wormed his way beneath my skin, past the sinew of muscle, flesh and blood, and injected himself within the marrow of my bones.

I was no longer my own. I had know this the moment I ran after him on my birthday, the very second I told him about my alcoholic father, seated myself on his lap on those front steps, and kissed him until our passion threatened public indecency. I'd know it then. But it wasn't until now that I understood it.

I gazed at my empty hand and felt my heart spasm. He'd held it moments ago: at his door, in the elevator as he texted away on his phone and in the garage up until the second he'd openned the car door for me. Now seated together, inches apart, he hadn't reclaimed it.

I just found myself staring at my empty hand, wondering why. The thoughts reeking havoc within my consciousness were thrust upon me by the strength of his silence. I'd asked him to wait for me, and he'd taken my hand, but he'd said nothing. He'd offered no words of assuagement, of reassurance. I was left uncertain of our standing.

Insecurity was like taking a hooked arrow to the guts. If you tried reversing it's actions, undoing the damage it'd caused, it would garner nothing but tragic results. But perhaps if you were to work through it, seeing an ending with all your organs mostly intact was a possibility.

"I never saw this you know; I never saw you coming."

His body needlessly shifted about, his eyes adamant on the road ahead.

"In twentyfive years there is still so much I haven't done, so much I haven't seen." I kept staring at my palm as if I expected the fine lines to spontaneously rearrange themselves into a new pattern. "I have never left this country. As a matter of a fact, I can count on one hand how many states I've visted. I've never been on vacation or seen Broadway. I've never even lived on my own."

I favoured the view outside my window when my palm's vacancy became too depressing. Fine raindrops pattered against the glass, forming a gentle mist.

"When I left high school I was six months pregnant. Attending graduation wasn't even a consideration for me. I couldn't imagine standing on that stage with the eyes of thousands looking on, judging me for the choices I'd made," I sighed, that hand curling itself into a fist, "It is one of my biggest regrets. I am in no way a brave person, but some days I wish I had at least one picture in a cap and gown, baby bump on full display just to show Odette that I did it."

My lips flirted with the idea of a smile, just at the thought.

"I gave birth to her prematurely at seven months and weeks later started college in August. There was no break, no time out. My parents had one rule: work, school or the street. I didn't complain." I could feel his stare now, heating the side of my face. "They'd fed me, clothed me. They'd given me a bed to sleep on, even after I'd failed to value all the sacrifices they'd made to ensure my life turned out better than theirs."

Recounting the events came easy, easier than I'd expected.

"With a new mouth to feed, my father worked three jobs just to make ends meet, and my mother carried Odette to and fro with her on the days I could not. They were there for me. Even in the face of insurmountable disappointment, they stuck by my side. Cared for and supported me and my child. I have spent the last seven years trying my very best to give them something to be proud of."