The train is buzzing beneath me as it surges from station to station, but I am so accustomed to this kind of motion that it is hardly noticeable. Carefully, I avoid brushing against the passenger who occupies the window seat beside me, though my vigilance is not monitored consciously. It's a visceral thing. I don't need to tell my body to obey the rules.
A book is held open in my lap. I am "lost in another world", as readers are often described, immersed in layers of stories from my past. Odd Girl Out, by Rachel Simmons, is a thoughtful extended opinion piece on a uniquely feminine form of violence: the abusive social tactics employed by many middle- and high-school girls. Yes, we ladies can be vicious, although we tend to perpetrate a quieter kind of violence. I have read the book three or four times--maybe more--since I was in middle school myself.
At first I absorbed this anti-bullying treatise like a manual. This is how to gain power, I thought. Now, with no daily social status to manage--I dropped out of college and work at home--and considerably more perspective, I feel sad and a little bit flummoxed. Luckily, my reflex is to remind myself that I don't have to have everything figured out right away--or ever.
The train conductor announces the name of the station before mine, and I look up. Inadvertently, I almost cross gazes with someone from my old high school. She and I weren't close. To magnify the already awkward situation, she's sitting on the lap of one of my first high-school boyfriends, a very nice guy who I dated freshman year and treated abominably. I am ashamed and want nothing more than to escape.
[Photo by Steve McFarland. All of the above happened on the way home from the meetup I talked about earlier. Seeing her was pretty wonderful, although I'm sure I have unprocessed emotions to deal with soon.]
