When I emerged from my room at about 10:15 this morning, I was confronted with Lauren rather sullenly sitting on our chaise staring at an empty tea cup and an empty plate. I said good morning and inquired about her health. This inevitably launched her into a forty-five minute account of her night last night. One of the first revelations about what happened last night to come forward was that she came into my room last night and watched me sleep. Let me repeat that for those of you not fully grasping the bizarre twist my life has just taken: She came into my room last night around 1:30 and sat on my floor for half an hour watching me sleep. Came. Into my room. Watched me sleep. Just take a minute to ponder that.
In a completely non-infuriating way, Lauren is the most self-centered person I've ever met. The only thing she ever talks about is herself, how she's feeling, what she's thinking, who she cares about and she acts accordingly. She is 100% motivated by what will make her feel better in that moment. And at 1:30 last night, she needed to see another person alive, well and sleeping soundly. She said she was delirious for an hour last night but not when she came into my room. She said she pondered waking me up because she needed someone to cuddle her or, at the very least, give her a hug. She said she leaned on my bed and talked to me in her head so she wouldn't wake me up. She said she felt much better.
I don't know where I am left in all this mess. I'm a little confused since I thought that when we each retired into our own rooms and closed the doors, that was a signal that we were each done for the day and there was an invisible "Do Not Disturb" sign hanging on the door. I'm a little creeped out since she came and watched me sleep for an extended period of time. But I'm not angry. For some reason, the sheer oddness of the whole situation hasn't angered me. I'm not mad she came into my room uninvited and watched me sleep. I think I probably should be and have the right to be, but I'm just not. It just fits in with the Lauren-continuity that's been created here over the past week. It fits with her that this is something she would do and that makes it somehow all right.
The thing that does bother me is what a big production she's making about this little cold. The exact same cold that I had not two days ago and didn't make any fuss about. She gave me this dramatic re-enactment of her night this morning as I numbly ate my peanut butter and jelly sandwich. She was delirious and feverish and thrashing about in bed and she had to clear the energy over her bed and walk around and call random people and give her love away to her father or whoever was around and then drugged with aspirin and then, blissfully, asleep. She was almost late to class because she "had to tell me her story." Her story. Her epic. I have to shake my head at the ridiculousness of it all.
I just had to tell you of the latest strange chapter in my acquaintance with Lauren. Now I should probably get back to the grindstone and reading about the General Assembly of the UN. I don't remember if I gushed about the UN Charter to you guys, but it's really wonderful. It makes you love the world that people sat down and had these wonderful thoughts and actually did something about them. The only tragedy is how it didn't play out like they thought it would. I wish the UN could be the organization its founders dreamed it would be.
Love,
Corey
No comments:
Post a Comment