Remember Me

Sleeping, eating, dreaming of Arizona. Ah yes, the good life. While in Arizona, I wasn’t allowed to care about anything in California. This state has done a fair share of damage to the once proud emperor, some deserved, some not. How I am supposed to beat this funk knowing that my future does not particularly lie in my hands will be worthy of the Sphinx’s Riddle. Twenty-two years, and my fate hangs in the balance of a girl that I loved, but now wants my head on a silver platter. If this isn’t the time for me to mature and remember what’s important, then I deserve whatever I face. There’s only one way for me to reclaim my throne, a method that’s tried and true.

Yep, I’m going to scream from the mountains.

Talking to my close friends and family made me realize that the obvious is true: I fucked up. No amount of apologizing can erase my actions, and that’s just how the wind blows. If a person doesn’t want to be your friend, sometimes, burying the memory must be done. The facts may not add up, such as an alleged tryst in Arizona where I’m the bad guy, while I know she’s done similar things. Come on, she has a boyfriend…the only rational argument I have for her concern would be jealousy. Perhaps I live for these confusing situations, and for that, there’s a price. I won’t have her in the crowd when I presumably defend my title Friday, or when I introduce Walter Jones next Saturday. She won’t make awkward jokes in front of my family when they convince me that my graduation is a cause for celebration. Instead, I have a cavalcade of lessons to be observed. When camping out with my salsa brethren, I’ve told my story and I don’t feel as bad as I did. I thought about the private lessons I arranged for her so she could be a better dancer. I couldn’t do it on my own, so I asked my coaches to help her evolve in her own right. Pricy it was, especially considering she never went. I mused about the relationships strained and severed because I wanted her protected at any cost. Even ditched my previous partner to make sure she’d shine on the team with me covering up any imperfections. The schedule building, academic advising, minor addition…Pippa grew as a person because I made sure I granted her anything I could to see her succeed. Offered to stick around another two years to help develop her talent, and eventually see her take over when my journey ends. Now, she doesn’t want to talk, and more or less, wants to fuck with my livelihood. Someone once said “if I liked you, you wouldn’t have had to work so hard.” Me working hard for her friendship potentially has me staring down my future prospects of having a future. I know Pippa can’t read this, but if she could, I’d at least ask for a conversation. Dialogue is God’s style, according to F.W. de Klerk.

However, current problems (health and girl-wise) do not stop me from being revered as the great hope of salsa. I’m glad my family took me back; I feel like a prodigal son that was lost, and is now…found would be too strong. However, being a part of the band allows me a few privileges, such as shots and a salsa orgy. Last semester, that was my life: drinking and dancing. Give me a couple of shots, a floor, and a girl who thinks she could remove the sleeves, and I was happy. I haven’t had much of a will to dance with the health and lingering personal demons. However, the dance floor tells me one thing: move. And it also tells me to stay away from salsa clubs on nights that don’t involve salsa. I saw rubber bullets and a guy get tazed yesterday evening. Leave it to me to deadpan moderately racist comments afterwards. Times like that make me glad to be alive, or at the very least, glad that some advantages were afforded to me. Sometimes, you can’t share them with others; perhaps apple cider is the only thing that tastes better shared. Sometimes, you have to tap into your inner fear of becoming what was once feared. However, the once feared Anthony Guy could move worlds without worries of treason. It’s about time I put on the dance shoes with pride and stared down the world. Someone’s watching me. The world is watching me. I intend to give them a show. Skibbedebebop. Much later.

Current Track – Marc Anthony “Ahora Quien”


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