in memoria: infractus fatum
21
heartbeat, it is the most excruciating pain imaginable. It feels as if your heart ventricles are filled with battery acid, smothered in gasoline, and then lit on fire and left to burn in the wastelands of the vacuums of space. Perhaps I am exaggerating; yes, I do believe I am. All I know is that the last two weeks have been wonderful. I have felt at peace, been joyful, and in coming to know Hope I have come to know hope. The breeze was cool and delicate, rising off the lapping waves of the Ohio River. A barge passed underneath the bridge as the two of them sat on the bench, staring at the sun setting to the west, bleeding ribbons of light over the dull brown river, reflecting off the steel of the skyscrapers. She held the cup of Starbucks coffee in her hands. “Every boy I’ve dated has turned out to be a real jerk. They use and abuse me. I just keep holding out hope that some boy will fall for me who won’t be a jerk like that. A boy who will treat me like a princess.” “You deserve to be treated like a princess.” He considered wrapping his arm around her. No. He didn’t want to look like another boy trying to get into her pants. “Sometimes I wonder if I really do deserve that. No one has treated me like a princess.” “That’s because you haven’t met the right guy yet.” Should I put my arm around her? The war waged in his head. No. She is just a good friend. She doesn’t want you to put your arm around her. “I don’t know.” She cradled the Styrofoam cup. “When the right guy comes along…” His voice trailed off. “I just want a kiss to mean something, you know?” “Yeah,” he said. “I want my next kiss to mean something. I don’t want to kiss just to kiss.” “I know.” She put her hand on his knee, tenderly, gently. Her touch felt so good. Put your arm around her. No. She’s just a good friend. She put her hand on your knee. She just feels close to me. Yeah. But not close as a friend. She’s sending you a message. She stroked his knee with her finger. His heart pounded. Do it. Then, No. Again: Do it. No! He reached out, placed his arm around her. She scooted in closer. The two of them looked out over the river. The barge was bending around a curve, the Kentucky banks obscuring the front of the vessel. Black smoke rose in plumes from its smokestacks hidden behind the distant trees. He bit his lip. “What are you thinking?” She looked at him, a cute smile. “I don’t know. What are you thinking?” “Maybe you found the right guy?” She grinned widely. “Maybe. Maybe. Just… Maybe.” Why am I so frightened? I’ve always been so brave when it comes to these things. But now I find myself literally scared. Is it because there’s so much to lose? Is it because I’ve been hurt
Anthony Barnhart