Current life

 

We have a window that faces east and a TV that faces west, opposite the bay window. We can't watch anything dark until later in the evening. We have been watching Game of Thrones when everyone is home from school and work. And then I make time just before bed to see my little girlfriend on my little phone.

When I am sad I entertain myself with my omniscient eye and watch me miserably walk against heavy winds across the street. Even the crosswalks here are made for large, masculine trucks, 24-second cross time for six-lane traffic. My Houston Street is called Gaylord Boulevard. I apologetically walk past cars humming, raring to go. I am allergic to a single shrub on that walk. It is the nail struck into my palm for the sin of rear-ending some nice woman's Ford Explorer.

Law school is the other nail. My daily life is pleasant. Reading hundreds of pages in a week feels rewarding, though my eyesight declines with every page. I have two friends named Christopher and Isabelle, who we endearingly call by her last name, "Luu." I met them in the first week or so and we have been inseparable since then. One could know about 45% of Isabelle's life after a single conversation, and Christopher has an accent, a certain affinity to emphasize particular syllables, that's taken over me entirely. Me and Christopher are the two gayest kids at our midwestern high school environment. Isabelle hangs out with us because we're all Asian. There might as well be a band and football team and French class in law school.