The BPB

I took it lightly that day. I shouldn't have. She was right about what she said before.

"I was wrong" I wanted to say, "You were right", but instead, like a coward, I just stood there. Studying this girl as she stared down at her Converse; her hair in a ponytail, and the rays of the sun hitting her pale skin. "I was wrong" is hardly slipping through my frozen lips, my gaze has forced me to look at a brown paper bag sliding next to my foot. This paper bag wasn't a coward, it didn't escape from the trash bin, it flew out and began searching for someone who seemed to feel more like a trash bin. It found me. The nearest trash bin.

Thanks, brown paper bag, I thought to myself. I'm honored to be your trash bin, but as you can imagine, I feel like running away right now and hiding in one myself.

Soon, I realized that my thoughts have soaked into an empty tub I have dived into, while "I was wrong" has not even paid a visit to the attention of the girl standing in front of me. It was so simple, but not so simple. I could only notice my Nirvana shirt creating ripples from the breeze that carelessly slapped everything in its way; tossing the autumn leaves into a frenzy. Are these leaves looking for a trash bin as well? I could use one.

I thought for a moment, oblivious to what the girl in front of me was trying to say. She gave me a blank stare before looking back down at her sneakers. Her arms now crossed against her chest, and the brown paper bag had slid in the gap between us. I watched it as seconds passed without a word, and she grew impatient. "I was wrong" has now been replaced with "I'm sorry", and my entire brain does not know what to do, or say.

Slowly, the girl's gaze had moved from the sight of her shoes to the sun flashing midday in her eyes. She squints, I look at her and think, she sees me and looks back down at her sneakers.

Great, my brain face-palmed itself. Scaring her away with the fact that you talk to yourself more than saying one word to anybody. Brilliant. Excellent. Awesome work, you nitwit.

The sarcasm of the inner voice had me smiling to myself, and the girl immediately caught it. I quickly remove the grin into a few emotionless blinks as if something was in my eye. The girl sighs, and I start to chew the inside of my mouth. From this point, this being the longest silence I ever participated in with anyone. It reminded me of how Maria and Tony met in West Side Story; it took two minutes for them to reach each other. This girl and I have been standing in silent motions for five minutes, and we haven't gotten any chances to reach each other.

"I'm sorry" evolved into "I need to go", which sounded too ardent, then it began to form into "I'll go" like "Bye now".

The brown paper bag had reached her foot, I stared at it for the longest time; not her foot but the paper bag that had left me. The first thing that would ever leave me was a brown paper bag. Not a girl, not a pet, not a parent. A brown paper bag. To be honest, I was jealous. Jealous of this brown paper bag.

The girl didn't notice it. Why didn't she notice it? But I noticed it. I noticed the various wrinkles front and back from its previous adventure; the ripped edge somewhat folded. I continued to glare at it, hence a staring contest had begun. Me versus the brown paper bag. That senseless material. Not as silly as how she could not possibly notice it, which lies lifeless at her feet. It kissed the tip of her sneakers; slightly moving inches closer to her heels.

Then, she feels a tickle on her ankle; glancing down, she spots the paper bag, she doesn't ignore it, but she kicks it. The poor thing swings across the concrete and holds onto the bottom stitches of my Levi jeans. I stare down at it and back at the girl; she's staring at me, and smiling from ear to ear. I quickly found myself laughing with her as I bent down to pick up this thing that caught our lungs into a breathless chuckle. Crumpling up the bag to an enormous ball, and stepping closer to her, I closely examined her glistening eyes.

"I was wrong," I said, realizing my voice is speaking out loud, "You were right." And I smiled. She tucks a strand of her loose hair behind her ear, and a grin is returned with the calmness of her voice.

"I know," she says softly, "The paper bag told me." We laugh again.

I still held the crushed brown paper bag when I stood at the bus stop where we parted ways. I didn't remember those five minutes she and I stood in utter and voiceless silence. I only remembered the paper bag, clutched within my pocket. This silly thing.

There, I noticed the green trash bin next to the bus sign, and there was a smile on my face. The passersby must've thought I was a lunatic; smiling to myself about a trash bin. But I wasn't smiling about the trash bin. Though, I didn't actually need it anymore.

Thanks, brown paper bag, I thought. I owe you one.