Saying goodbye isn't easy for me, so these next few posts'll be somewhat melancholy.
1. christina is leaving
2. spencer is leaving
3. i'm not going this year
Last night Christina and I visited one of our favorite places La Madeline's in Old Town (nt. whenever I refer to old town, you can assume alexandria, i get lost in manassas, and occoquan closes at five). I first went there with Spencer and company a couple years ago. Wow, that's strange sounding, "a couple years ago," I'm getting old.
Well Christina is a french fanatic and plans on becoming an expatriot, but she won't be joining Hemingway and Fitzgerald, no she'll be doing crazy smart people things aka economics, that I will never have a clue about. But because of her love for french things I took her to la Mad's and we try to get up there as often as possible.
Last night was different though. It's usually quiet, last night it was far from that; it wasn't quiet at all. Almost in the same moment we sat down some strange man started yelling at the manager, it was quite the scene. He was tall and scruffy, very homeless-veteren looking (the camo gave him away). I have no idea what was upseeting him, he didn't say, but his language was harsh to little ears, including those of the little kids sitting behind us with their parents, they went on eating as though nothing was happening. So strange. He left after about five minutes of this and hopped on his bike giving us dirty looks through the window as he rode away.
And if that wasn't enough, there's a new girl working there. A very loud and somewhat obnoxious girl. We were used to the quiet Ethiopians who would ask us if we knew french and then laugh at us as we tried to speak with them, I guess I should say that they laughed at me, Christina has always spoken better than me, she's almost fluent. But last night this girl who was talking to everybody as they ate would not shut up. This would have been nice if we were the lonely brokenhearted types she seemed to be talking to, mainly an older woman who had terrible teeth. I can't stand bad teeth, and would have had a very hard time talking to this woman, so I can admire the loud girl's friendly nature, even if her volume could be turned down a notch. Watching her and the older woman interact was sweet, but Christina was more than annoyed and we left shortly. The difference was too much to take when we were looking for a familiar place to say goodbye.
I didn't cry last night, but I wanted to, and by God, I made myself promise to wait 'til Saturday. The difference to me, because I overanalyze everything, seemed to be one of those fatefilled events that seem so obscure there's no other way to explain them, but clearly they're foreshadowing something to happen later. Often something that is just as much plan as fate. We've know this would happen since we were five. Even though people mistake her as my little sister, and we never seem to think of the age difference, but this was it. There aren't anymore summers together, anymore late nights at the Graff's house, no more lame church dances our parents make us go to-but it's okay 'cause at least we'd be able to complain together. In retrospect it's because of all those awful activities that we are so close. Youth group each week, seminary everymorning, sunday school, those were our times to catch up on the latest, bitch about whatever was bothering us. And she's not going to be there anymore, and I'm going to suffer through one last year without her here.
I know we'll stay in touch, and I know we'll see eachother again, but things like this never go back to how they once were. And those are the things I'm going to miss.
The Graff's house, our home away from home, where we could almost always count on the backdoor or garage being left open, where we were welcome at all hours, Elizabeth and I will still go, but even last night without Christina was different. We're a three piece puzzle and we're losing a piece. The "good influence" or so she's been told, and we're doomed to go astray without her, but thank God that was never her at all, she's the Mormon girl we can complain to without a lecture in return, or being told to go pray about it (Lord knows we pray all the time) or make an appointment with the bishop (her dad). She's our Chris-tin-AH! and tomorrow we're losing a piece.