Friday, September 11, 2009

Liberty Heights

Cue a loop of that melody from the Beach Boys "Wouldn't It Be Nice" know, the part where it kind of sounds like a harp but it's probably just a really high cord on the guitar. The looped beginning of that song entered my subconscious at some point in the early morning of my sleep last night. I remember hearing it playing on a car radio. I wasn't driving the car, I was stowed in the back seat and I had the feeling the driver and other passengers did not know I was there. I peered out the window and saw a beautiful park, the trees were as tall as the sky and their branches dipped down into the saturated grass like a Weeping Willow. The sky was a perfect mixture of cloud and blue and the sun's golden rays were reflected off of all the foliage. The road we were traveling on looped and curved around the massive trunks of the trees. Eventually it bridged over a serene pond.
I turned around in my seat and was suddenly standing outside of the car, which was now parked beside one of the Willows. An old stone structure that used to be a church but was now converted into some sort of park facility stood under the willow. A sign reading "LIBERTY HEIGHTS Park" was firmly planted in front of the building.
I turned to the left and saw that a house sit a ways down the road from the building. It too rested under these monstrous willows. I began to walk down the red dirt road, appreciating the sunlight that peeked through the branches. As I got closer to the house, I saw that from all the cars parked outside there was a party going on.
I faded out of the dream and opened my eyes enough to see my bedroom ceiling. I rolled over and saw that it was 4-something AM.
I easily slipped back in to Liberty Heights and assumed I was now at the party. A pool took up a large part of what was actually a very small backyard. Young adults were milling around with drinks and conversation. I walked around, not knowing anyone for some time. She crept up behind me, the way she would, and placed her hands over my eyes. Without guessing, I turned around and we hugged, like friends who hadn't seen each other in years. I was at home. I was content.
That moment lasted for what seemed, the rest of the night. The only other parts I remember are short instances of my time spent with her. At one point we were laughing at the waspy party-goers who were trying too hard to make good impressions. There were orange-tan women and shirtless men with their Oakley sunglasses. At one point I can remember her taking my hand as we ran to some empty room in the house to be away from everyone else. At one point we kissed......It was just a small peck on the lips but it meant more to me than any kiss I can ever remember sharing.

I woke up and instantly tried to relive the moments leading up to the kiss. The whole scene lost it's dreamlike essence when I tried to recollect it. It seemed petty and desperate. I felt stupid. But my heart still pounded in unison to her steady walk up the winding staircase, her hand in mine.
The girl is someone I know, some fling that never was. On a normal day, I'd even tell you I was over her. But that youthful spirit of "love" entered my head at or around 4 am last night and didn't let go until my alarm sounded. It made me nostalgic for something that hasn't even happened.

And I still don't know what Liberty Heights means, but at least I didn't end this post with some terrible line like,
"Maybe some day I'll find Liberty Heights."

(whoops, I just did)

1 comment:

Kirsten Huth said...

oddly enough, I think I am a little jealous of this girl!!

I love your writing, dear friend....the end!!!