OCD, the Dude, and Me - By Lauren Roedy Vaughn Page 0,31
I really have no idea about her teeth.
Anyway, like I said before, her boyfriend was kissing the life out of her, or the soul out of her, something was being kissed out of her. I saw her rise up on her toes from the power of his kiss. She was so moved by this kiss that she just dropped her bag to the ground, probably not caring if someone walked off with all her possessions because someone was loving her so passionately in that moment that all her things meant nothing.
Ms. Harrison, I am sure a scene like this is familiar to you. I am sure someone has kissed you like that. Maybe not under Big Ben, but maybe the Empire State Building or something (LOL). The point is, no one has ever kissed me like that and watching those two, I thought about how it is truly possible that no one ever will. Please, please, please just let me write this to you without you giving my words to Marv or my mom. Please. I don’t think this is psychotic. I think it is truly just honest and that is not pathological.
So I stared at them and I watched this boy ravenously kiss this girl. It was incredible. Like he was malnourished and eating from a delicious buffet that was about to pack up for the night. And he needed to get as much as he could before it was taken away. And she . . . well, you know that line from Hamlet’s first soliloquy about the way Gertrude loved Hamlet’s father: “Why, she would hang on him, as if increase of appetite had grown by what it fed on.” It was just like that. They were both increasingly hungry for the buffet that was each other. (I won’t extend this metaphor anymore. I think you get my point.) But it just stunned me, stunned me and made me lose the moment we were in as a class. I didn’t see or feel you all move and get on the bus. I just didn’t know you did that.
I am sorry I got left behind, and I am sorry I caused a hassle for you when you counted everyone and I wasn’t there. I just wanted you to know that I was lost from the group because, well, I am truly lost from the group. I am sorry, Ms. Harrison.
Teacher comments: It’s okay, Danielle. We’ve all moved on from that moment. You can forgive yourself.
POSTCARD #1 to Mom and Dad
Dear Mom and Dad,
Everything is fine. England is as lovely as it always is. Thanks for sending me on the trip.
Love you,
Danielle
POSTCARD #3 to Aunt Joyce
Dear Aunt Joyce,
I know you will probably get this postcard after I get home, but I am sending it because I want to remember to ask you if you’ve ever been kissed really passionately in a place that was the perfect background for such a momentous event and what that was like. To the mail people who may be reading this postcard: you are perverts who shouldn’t be spending work hours reading other people’s mail.
Love you,
Danielle
*PRIVATE TRIP INFO* 3/7
Journal #3: The real story
Heather called me a bitch to my face because room check was earlier tonight because I held up the bus. I literally tried biting the inside of my cheek like girls do in television movies in order not to cry. It didn’t work. It just gave me another reason to want to cry.
I stayed in the room and pretended I was invisible.
I know this wish to be invisible is ironic since I am twenty pounds overweight. I mean, if I were truly committed to this invisibility thing I should have developed anorexia, but I am not that lucky.
People may not see me or they may ignore me as I desire them to, but the force of life does not ignore me. It just keeps acting upon me in the most impersonal way like gravity. There is something profound, I’m sure, to be learned from this, but I can’t possibly find my way to that right now. What I am going to find my way to is the phone so I can order room service.
*CLASS ASSIGNMENT* 3/8
Journal #4 of the England Trip
(Covering day 6 of the trip. A.)
Danielle Levine
English 12
Ms. Harrison
Period 4
Today we went on a walking tour of Canterbury, an incredible city. Is it a city? Or a village? Or maybe it’s a hamlet? Anyway, whatever Canterbury is, I like it. Our tour