Manipura

You had fallen asleep before I got there. Again. There was no point in waking you up. I knew you had gotten up early for work and had to do it again. You hated that one a.m. job.  You’d tell me often, “I know I need it, but if I could, I’d sleep through every shift with you instead.”  

I walked out of the yellow house, ripped off my work apron, and leaned against the back of my small Honda. You wouldn’t know it till the next day, but I sat in that car for thirty minutes trying to convince myself to stop crying, to lessen the weight in my stomach. I don’t know why I thought coming over on a Friday night was a good idea. I don’t why I thought you would be awake. You had, of course, only slept four hours that day. We always had busy schedules, rough weeks where a good morning and good night text were all we got. Yet every Friday you’d promise to be awake, promise to listen to my day, to tell me yours–and every Friday you were asleep before I got there, and every Friday I went for a drive on my way home to convince my parents we had still hung out. They were always looking for an excuse to wrinkle their nose at us, or at least it felt that way. So, most Fridays I’d grab fries from Mcdonald’s and go sit on the Rims to watch over the city lights and listen to midnight dating advice radio. It helped to listen to other people’s petty problems, but this Friday I grabbed a Taco Bell freeze and found myself driving a road behind our old high school, just to think.  

What if you had never asked me to coffee? What if I had said no and asked my crush instead? What if you couldn’t keep this job? What if I failed college? What if I couldn’t save enough money to get a place with you? What if this was all we ever had, memories of high school romance turned into cliche tragedies?  

I parked in a turnoff near the fields where we used to park after school concerts or movie nights. I climbed onto the hood, let the music play, and just looked at the stars.

Once, there in the dog park across the way, you had laid out our designated “date blanket” in the grass and chased me through the sprinklers. With soaking clothes and wet hair, I told you about the moon and her phases while you talked about the spiders crawling through the wildflower grasses, just so you could watch me fluster every time the blades brushed my skin. 

At night, three cars an hour drove by on that road. I counted them as they went. The crackling of their tires on broken asphalt sounded like someone walking. Was the grass crunching or did the wind do that? Did that car stop after driving by? Was I just making that up?  Was I sure no one was behind me? Was it really just a field? Did I just hear a man clear his throat? In my haste I spilled my red freeze on the ground. Another grunt.

I jumped in the car and locked the doors. I’m gonna die. My hand shook as I tried to put the key in. Yellow lights sliced the black road before me. There, across in the field, three horses stood up on a hill looking right at me, ears forward.  

“Oh god.” My hand pushed hair back toward my falling ponytail. “You scared me, fucking beauties.”  

 Turning the car off, I got out and trudged over the broken road. A sidewalk for runners and a foot of wheat grass stood between me and a fence. 

 “Hello.” One horse had walked to meet me. He stopped just before his nose would brush the wire. I stayed where I was. Together we talked nonsense about the stars, the universe, the rock in my pocket, everything; long enough that six cars passed. He watched me intently, like a novelty, and followed my hand that pointed out Orion’s Belt.   

Then his head jerked to my left. A sound of quick footsteps was running toward us. A shadowy figure rushing as if to catch me. That’s it. I’m actually gonna die. I ran as fast as I could back to the car, and yellow lit the grass again as the engine started. The receding back of a nighttime runner on their way down the sidewalk flashed a white tee and… my horse looking across at me, head tilted sideways. I walked back, head low this time, picking up some long grass as I went.  

He didn’t seem to like my offer, but it did give us both the courage to step closer. I petted his nose steadily, though my breathing still rushed with the runner. Three breaths and his friends called. He snorted, shook his head, then turned from me. They disappeared at a run, giving shouts of… something. Unsure what emotion to place on it, not a goodbye and not an ending, I walked to my car one more time.