You see, My housemate E just moved out yesterday. For the past week, I have spent a good deal of time with her, just chatting away into the night. Laughing at terrible (or turrible as we were saying) puns and silly jokes. Our discussions often led deep into the night and I don't mind having lost sleep over it.
I don't know if I have ever felt so read so easily. As I was sitting on the couch with E and chatting, she reached over and began massaging my head, neck and back. As she hit on my back she gasped a little at the amount of tense knotted muscles. Immediately she demanded I lie down so she could work on it. This was the first massage I've had in probably months. It hurt, but in a good way.
As she worked at the hard muscles, we continued our conversation. It was then that she read me like an open book.
"You're probably the kind of person who everyone comes to with problems, because they know you'll help solve them."
I didn't deny it, I was curious where this train of thought would go.
"I remember, a little while after we had all moved in, and I didn't mean to eavesdrop, but you were on the phone with a friend, who was complaining about an internship or something."
I nodded a little, I remembered the conversation I had had with my friend A.
"I remember thinking, wow, this guy is a nice guy! I would never have the patience to talk to someone for 45 minutes and do what you did"
I gave a small sigh of contentness as she unwound a knot near my shoulder blade
"I was glad then, we needed a nice person in our house. I mean, H----h is nice, but high strung and focused. H----e is emotional and gets upset pretty easily. You" her hands stop for a moment searching for a muscle before settling on moving up to my neck near the base of my skull "You're focused too, but in a different way."
I chime in "I'm focused yes, but H----h's and my approach to problem solving is a bit different." her hands move to massaging near my ears
"Right, she gets kinda, obsessively focused. You're more relaxed about it"
"Patient"
"Yeah you're very patient, like with your friend. I don't know if I could do that"
I smile as I think about A. "She was having a hard time, but she's a really good friend and kinda like hearing her vent, I don't get worked up often, so I kinda enjoy seeing the raw emotion come out of people, it's something I don't do so its refreshing as long as it's not directed at me."
her hands move to my lower back
"You're a peace-keeper."
How many times has she said that to me in the past week? Month? Whenever we discuss siblings and family, my being the youngest results in her telling me I'm a peace-keeper. She's not wrong. In my household I did get along with people in my family, I did help mitigate arguments a bit and try to resolve problems between people.
"I just like solving problems."
"You seem good at it, kill any beetles today?"
Beetles. That's the insect her and I had decided I delt with at work. I'm always maintaining and developing for a bug-ridden system. When I was talking to her about it she had asked me the absurd question of what type of bug it was. After laughing and musing for a bit, we decided on beetles.
"I did. A system wide one that I've been dealing with for a couple days"
Thumbs press into my back and I feel a muscle release and a wave of relaxation hits me.
"That's good"
We chat a little more about my work and she shifts a little and starts reworking my shoulders.
"I think you should live in Burlington."
She's referring to my upcoming need to choose to live in the capital where I work, or continue living in the shadow of my alma mater "Why's that?"
"If you live down there, you'll just work all the time and won't hang out with friends as much. You'll go to work, come home, work more, sleep, work, work. You'll be unhappy with yourself and I'm sure you'll visit friends here sometimes but you'll go home from work, be exhausted and not want to make the journey to Burlington because you work to much."
I think about it for a moment, feeling myself get offended that she would think I wouldn't go see my friends, I let it pass through me as I'm not really offended just an initial reaction to being told how I'd live. But after a moment reflection " You're probably right. I work too much." her hands start working again, I don't doubt she could tell I was taken aback for a moment.
"I think you should live here, and enjoy life a bit, take some time for yourself and don't spend all your time working."
"I don't work all the time, today I came home read a book and played guitar on the roof"
"Good! Do that more!
We settle into comfortable silence for a moment before she brings us back to our original conversation, bringing up taking time for myself. And getting my friends to do more things like this. I respond "I'm always the one to give the massages, never to get them."
"Well, maybe in a past life you were a giving tree! I bet, whenever your friends need help you're the kind of person who comes running to help "
my mind flickers to an incident a few months ago where I ran to the hospital to sit with a friend because she needed someone and another incident where I walked out of my way late at night to go sit with a friend who had been crying.
"And when you're always helping people like that, and they can always rely on you and count on you, people forget that maybe the person they ask to solve their problems has problems themselves"
I can't disagree with that. She's just hitting the nail on the head.
"You have to take some time for yourself, or get one of them to give you a massage instead of the other way around."
I turn my head and look back at her. She looks very focused, concentrating on finding the knotted muscles in my back. I catch her eye "You're reading me like one of your books. You know that?"
I'm going to miss her. She was a great person to live with and had a keen insight into my head. H----e had described E and I as twins when she saw us dancing in the kitchen while making muffins one night. Drinking Vodka and prancing about to the dance of the sugar plum fairies. Always dancing in the kitchen, getting Sara Bareilles stuck in her head and snapping our fingers as we bounced all around the apartment. One of those light-hearted friendships where the smiles flow often and conversation is just easy.
On her last night, she cooked dinner for the 3/4 housemates who were home. Each dish served was themed for a person. For H----h: steak. For H----e: pasta with pesto sauce. For me: homemade pizza rolls. We had set the table, tablecloth and place-mats and just sat together and were a small dysfunctionally functioning college student + alum family. H----h and H----e both got her a card from the store, some get well soon cards or those kind of funny you're going away and we'll miss you but here's something silly kinds of things. I had made her a card as well.
When I make a card for someone, it is not meant to be shared. I write them for one person and they are the object of my focus for that time. I think about the person, about the relationship I have with them. I draw on all the shared experiences and inside jokes I can and I try to create something that they will treasure. For E, I had folded a piece of paper in half, drawn her name in large bubbly letters, drew flowers and tree's and nature on the front. Then a curtain and stage on the back, haphazardly writing "The world is your stage" on it. Cliched, but for her very true. She's so full of life and bravadous acting that watching her cook was like watching a comedic play. Inside I had written her a poem, and filled the other half-page detailing things I remembered about our time spent as housemates together. I wrote the poem on the bus that morning, watching the mountains go by on the way to work.
It's been a long time since I wrote song lyrics, poems, or anything like that. I used to a lot in highschool, but I hadn't felt the urge or had the inspiration to do so for a few years. So when a line popped into my head on the bus, I began writing and then decided that it would be perfect as a gift for her to remember me by.
I honestly don't share the things I write for other people most of the time. As I said, it's personal and focused entirely on them. But I like this one so much. That I want to share it. It probably won't make sense to anyone reading this, as it has inside jokes with her primarily. When reading, make note of the commas as the poem does have some meter, although it switches up a bit near the end. But, in all it's glory:
This summer spent with you I will not forget;
Nights shared, Canadians met
With laughter heavy and hearts light
I give to you my thoughts in flight
My souls a kiwi, yours a salad
full of interest, variety, and the occasional ballad
Favorite housemate, soon to be
Favorite Californian, from ol' M.E.
Could be sad, rather reflect
On smiles, risks, 'n' auburn flecks
Two deer in headlights, laundry goes out
laughter mixed with British shouts
You told me you write
Could I tell you I'd read?
Lyrics, novels, proclivities.
You're going away, but keep in touch
if you need help, Facebook's a crutch
East coast, West coast, wherever you are
That's where you'll go and friends won't be far
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