Rooted, I used to think.

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Purgatory - Sunday, Feb. 10, 2019
Day Fifteen - Saturday, Feb. 09, 2019
Day Fourteen - Saturday, Feb. 09, 2019
Day Thirteen - Thursday, Feb. 07, 2019
Atonement - Thursday, Feb. 07, 2019

2002-02-26 @ 9:12 p.m.
He's so close. He's so far away.

I leaned close over him while the prof demonstrated the correct technique of attaching the rat psoas muscle to the tension sensor apparatus. I was in his space.. that tingle-inducing closeness where all your hairs stand on end.. where you can feel that layer of warmth that clings to the skin just so. I could smell his smell. It was a been-running-around-campus and cramming-for-midterm smell... kinda cool and outdoorsy.. totally real smelling. The prof's words were so distant.. all I could think of was being so close to him.

"You should be a surgeon." I am pretty damn good with my hands. I worked that delicate rat muscle fibre as if it were a resilient rubber band. "Forceps, please!"

We conversed about the usual things. At one key moment I looked straight into his blue-green eyes. I peered intensely in. And then quickly looked away. I wonder if he can see my craving. And then the lab was over. The last lab of the term. I'll never again have his undivided attention or be able to brush hands ever so lightly when passing microfuge tubes. *sigh*

I'll have to find him at Arts County when alchohol will give me courage to grab him with a huge hug as we celebrate the end of classes.

Roots | Shoots