salience

It was Sunday morning, I was early and found warmth in a meditation chapel off to the side of his church. There was still half an hour to go until I had something to do, and then another two after that before I would leave Chicago, get back to my apartment, and be able to let it all out. I sat down to think, and a pencil was right there. Nice clue abuela, I thought and picked it up to start writing. I had had such writer's block all weekend. Pretty amazing, considering.

I wrote at the top of some scrap paper I had, "I just want to get the hell out of here." And then I had to laugh, writing "hell" while sitting in a "sanctuary." It was an inside joke between the pencil and me...

"The whole time since I've been here, roughly about 43 hours, I haven't seen him play or conduct. No exercises on his drum pad, he hadn't written any new passages, no new composition ideas, no incessant noise on anything he could drum on with his hands, not even screechings on his school viola. It's eerily silent, he'll only play a track to prove a point, instead of inundating me with sound like he always would before, no matter what the circumstance. We've talked of Whitacre and how NU is everyhing BC isn't. Northwestern is a music school, and the amount of practice space alone will completely floor any BC Bands' girl who is used to the meager two rooms in Conte.

There hasn't been an "I've missed you" once. His friends had no clue who I was, what I did, or what I've done. The reality is, he hasn't missed me and I don't fit. Here I am in his music world. Our paths don't cross anymore. And I start to wonder, were we only together because we were both in music? Was it just out of convenience? We always knew I'd go my way to work and he'd go his way to school. And suddenly, we have different priorities and schedules. Our lives don't mesh because we don't want them to, or do we?

Here, the campus is beautiful. I'd never seen a campus so Victorian looking. But not to get sidetracked, the truth is it's awkward. We don't know how to act around one another, and mostly I'm just in his way of buying flowers for the new loves of his life. He hasn't asked about my forty five hours of work time and the other twenty of commute time each week. I don't think he cares what it means to have the licenses I have or what it is I do. And I have changed, I haven't played since the begining of May, something I'm determined to fix soon. See, I completely lost it after the NU Symphony Orchestra performance Saturday night. It wasn't because Alex was in it, he isn't in any ensemble other than the Chapel Choir where he sings, but that void just hit me hard in the solar plexus. Who am I? Where the hell is my music? I don't recognize myself anymore.

But I don't recognize Alex anymore either. Sure, he looks the same, and his clothes are sometimes familiar. But his chains are optional, his shoes are designer, his laugh isn't joyful anymore but careful, and he smells differently. There are random mentions of old jokes that seem a lifetime ago, but mostly he's distracted. I bought this ticket out here when he first got to Evanston and now, maybe it wasn't the best idea for me to have even come out.

What gets me most is his not playing. Not conducting. He goes to class, and the last thing I want to remember is the college bubble. I think back to my schedule, subtract all internships, rehearsal, lesson and sectional times and that is his life now: zero responsibility with a few maybe's thrown in. And to add insult to injury, he is lazy. It's been six weeks into his first quarter or whatever already, and he can never focus on the important things. I am so disappointed in him: why is he not taking advantage of all these opportunities? Okay, so they think BC is a joke for music, and IT IS, but so what?! We knew that already. Instead of taking that energy and using it to work harder and prove everyone wrong, he is apathetic, he questions everything. Including me.

He says he needs someone in Chicago, and while this is all news to me, I expected to hear it eventually. Why else would my best friend just trail off at such an important time in his life? And does he think he's the only one who's had a hard time adjusting? I've had to do it twice this past summer alone, trying to figure out where the hell I was and what I could do to start a career I'd be happy with down the line. There were no phone calls, no TMs, no emails, nothing. Just silence. And here I am?? For. What. To affirm what we both already know? That he doesn't do distance, because if you can't see it, it's not there?"

...And while I needed to see the friends he's surrounded himself with and the amazing life he has the chance to lead, I can't help but notice his AHANA friend count is 0 and his new world isn't me. And sure, we say maybe later on things will be different for us, but I can't hold onto that line anymore, I've held on far too long already. My last night there he said, "No matter what, you'll always be mine." I didn't know what to say then, and while there is some truth to that, I can't help but feel let down. All those dreams and ideas you share, all the when I get the chance to, I will's, his are just hanging in the air between us. He is at the jumping point and he's clammed up, looking for someone to help him out. He's 18 again, in a new place, and disoriented. He's lost and needs to find himself. His integrity with me is in question, 'cause so far, he's only proven to be the opposite of the guy I fell in love with. Where is the need to lead and motivate? To do and plan? And even though he will always be in my heart, I can't give myself to someone I don't respect.

But what do I hope? I hope he proves me wrong. I hope he gets his hands dirty and soaks it all up. And most of all, I hope my best friend will eventually resurface.