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The Strangest Day of My Life

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I believe I have just had the strangest day of my life. To start with, I am totally drunk right now, which probably means I should be sleeping instead of writing at this moment. Yet I am not as tired as I should be despite the fact that I have class in the morning.

You see, my day started at 3:00, when I first awoke because the chick next door was singing out loud again, rather off-key, to some shitty song I didn’t recognize. Whoever told her it was okay to sing aloud was either tone deaf or simply stupid. I punched the wall to make her shut up.

I went back to sleep, but awoke again when Daniel’s mom texted me to see if I was okay after the crash. I lied and said I was “still stiff, but otherwise okay”. In reality, my neck is killing me and my knee is starting to show a pretty nasty bruise. I feel like I was punched in the face by the air bag.

Daniel seems standoffish. He didn’t want to watch a movie with me. Said he wasn’t feeling “social” so I texted Isaiah to see if he’d walk with me to Lithia park instead. No reply.

Irked, I headed out on my own, and once downtown, was unexpectedly stopped by a light tap on the shoulder. I turned to find a rather awkward young man standing behind me, asking if we’d ever met before. I looked him over, trying to remember, thinking that he was just trying to start a conversation, until he asked, “Is your name Sarah, by chance?”

I told him, “Yes. I don’t recall where I’ve met you before, though. Pardon me for forgetting.”

“We met at the bus stop. I was just arriving from Pittsburgh. I asked you your name and I remember the tail you were wearing,” he replied, nodding toward the wolf tail keychain clipped to my side belt loop. I remembered him now. A bit of a tweaker, he’d given me his email address at 6:00 in the goddamn morning after an 11-hour bus ride from Portland to Medford. I’d never emailed him because I presumed he’d done too many drugs and was just passing through the area. In reality, he was a guitar teacher and musician who’d landed a job at the Ashland Hot Springs Resort as a gardener, and was staying in the area through summertime until he felt the need to move on.

“Well,” I said, “I’m heading out for a walk through Lithia Park, if you care to join me…?”

He agreed, and after grabbing his guitar and borrowed bicycle, walked along the path to a row of benches in the park. Along the way, I told him about the recent car crash, and about Daniel.

As we walked, an old hippy man with a bicycle handed me a flower from the basket mounted to his handlebars.

“Do you mind if I play you a song?” my companion from Pittsburgh asked.

I said I’d love to hear him play.

He asked what kind of music I enjoyed, and I told him that I loved almost everything from punk to ska to underground and back again. He played me a song that was meant to be performed on electric guitar, yet I liked the way it sounded on his acoustic nonetheless.

We talked for a brief while before he asked if he could play another song. I was happy to listen. It was something like a jazzed-up version of Jack Johnson crossed with Jimmy Hendrix. He had a lovely voice. Told me how amazing it was that he’d met me again. “Today, is like, you know, such a wonderful day. I had no idea I’d be playing my music for a beautiful young lady today, you know? It’s like, something about today….” And he trailed off. I probably blushed.

And so he played me another song. We talked about the work I do with recycled animal parts; taxidermy; synesthesia; his baby brother in Pittsburgh; and his journey to Ashland, Oregon.

We talked again about the crash. I said that I needed to get going; I had to take my meds for the whiplash in my neck, and he needed to go to Taboo for the Open Mic Night and perform for the crowd.

But he stayed and taught me about Yoga, and how it could help ease the pain in my neck. After showing me a few exercises, he asked if he could walk with me to the edge of Lithia and then we could go our separate ways. During this journey, he invited me to the hot springs spa, and wondered if I’d go hiking with him. Inside, I doubted that I would ever take him up on this offer, but now that I think about it, it seems like a good idea. I’m drunk, though, so nearly everything sounds better than I know it actually is. This is the problem with being too easy-going; Marcus the Musicman has done a few too many ‘shrooms or dropped too many hits of acid – he’s a bit wonky in the head, and yet, his musical talent shows a different side of him that is intelligent and sophisticated, even though he loses his words around me. I’m flattered, but I doubt that I will ever see him again unless by some chance as it was today.

Nonetheless, meeting with him answered many of my questions about the crash, and life, and about Daniel. I felt peaceful after my encounter with him. His music was what I needed, and his words of wisdom and his art of yoga made me realize that life is not always so simple.

I told Daniel about my chance encounter with Marcus the Musicman. He told me that he couldn’t sleep. I told him that I was here for him if he needed me, but got no reply. It made me sad. I wanted Daniel to at least say ‘thank you’, but he has not said anything. I then got a text from Isaiah.

We ended up at the 7/11 with a few of Zeah’s friends. Got drunk on PBR 40s, and took a walk while they went and got high. We watched Children of Men, talked about the crash, and how even though Daniel saved my life, he’s still “The Enemy”. I hate to think of him this way. I feel very strongly for him. But he doesn’t believe in love, and one day, he’ll be the kind of person that would arrest me for the things I’ve done. I cannot be with him, but I want him nonetheless. Yet I also want to be with my boyfriend, Jake, the musician and songwriter, who’s written music about me and my loneliness. He is not the enemy, but sometimes, I believe that we have too much in common. Daniel and I don’t have enough….

I now must sleep. The grass outside was too comfortable, and as I laid there, I closed my eyes and imagined the world being at peace. This, I know, will never happen, and it makes me sad. There will always be guns, and soldiers, and killing, and Daniel will be in the mess of it regardless of whether I want him to be or not. He was never meant for me. Or rather, I was never meant for him. My life was not supposed to exist in this universe, as I am the product of the biggest mistake of someone else’s life. But I seem to find connections in the most unusual places.

Men sing me songs in the park at night, and complete strangers hand me flowers in the street. Friends buy me beer and comfort me when I have a near-death experience. My boyfriend has a sixth-sense feeling that I am not okay while I sleep in a hospital bed, and my enemy saves my life. This is not co-incidence. Something is happening here that tells me that I am in the right place at the right time, and that perhaps I should be alone for a while, because I only make life more complicated for the people who care about me.

Today, I am the product of a mistake. Tomorrow will not be much different.
Image size
3456x5184px 6.25 MB
Make
Canon
Model
Canon EOS 7D
Shutter Speed
1/166 second
Aperture
F/3.5
Focal Length
18 mm
ISO Speed
1000
Date Taken
May 7, 2011, 6:10:45 AM
Sensor Size
15mm
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Comments28
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Taigas-den's avatar
Your stories are beautiful and sad.

I'm not sure what you mean by being the product of a mistake but all you can do is live your own life (as you seem to do).