Denver had eyes on me since the first day I set foot on The Regency, the student housing, but those eyes were hidden from me.
With a scholarship to an Art School I thought I had everything made. That I would have the time of my life.
Did I?
The campus was pure greatness; you could taste the creation, the freedom, the artsy stuff all around. It was perfect.
But with everything there is always a struggle, otherwise it would be easy, and nobody ever told me it would be.
Sooner than later working full time and balancing school got the better of me. So I reached out for help.
I didn't know what else to do.
There was this young soul walking around campus helping other students, building character, but if there was something else entirely she reminded me off, it was her appearance, and what image it created in my mind.
Something other than what was real and in front of me.
She had reminded me so much of Untouchable that I felt like I was stuck in déjàvu; I kept seeing her every time I spoke to her. My brain was confused; it was like a bad trip, like being stuck in between waking up from a dream--just laying in bed confused.
I had carried a photograph in my wallet, one that I had buried in boxes when I moved, only because I had been angry at Untouchable and wanted to forget her. But I knew that meeting The Tutor had to be for a reason; perhaps it was to help me forget Untouchable...by her helping me forget.
So I started e-mailing her to see if I could meet up; a week went by and finally we set a date, so I met her at this underground coffee place in campus and we talked.
All throughout our conversation I could still see Untouchable sitting right in front of me, I couldn't shake her image, and it bugged the hell out of me. So after struggling to get my bearings I finally pulled off the photograph from my wallet and gave it to The Tutor.
I asked her to please rid of it; I was too weak to do it myself. So I stood up and walked away.
"Thank you," I had told her.
And then...well, I never saw her after that.
Neither of them.
With a scholarship to an Art School I thought I had everything made. That I would have the time of my life.
Did I?
The campus was pure greatness; you could taste the creation, the freedom, the artsy stuff all around. It was perfect.
But with everything there is always a struggle, otherwise it would be easy, and nobody ever told me it would be.
Sooner than later working full time and balancing school got the better of me. So I reached out for help.
I didn't know what else to do.
There was this young soul walking around campus helping other students, building character, but if there was something else entirely she reminded me off, it was her appearance, and what image it created in my mind.
Something other than what was real and in front of me.
She had reminded me so much of Untouchable that I felt like I was stuck in déjàvu; I kept seeing her every time I spoke to her. My brain was confused; it was like a bad trip, like being stuck in between waking up from a dream--just laying in bed confused.
I had carried a photograph in my wallet, one that I had buried in boxes when I moved, only because I had been angry at Untouchable and wanted to forget her. But I knew that meeting The Tutor had to be for a reason; perhaps it was to help me forget Untouchable...by her helping me forget.
So I started e-mailing her to see if I could meet up; a week went by and finally we set a date, so I met her at this underground coffee place in campus and we talked.
All throughout our conversation I could still see Untouchable sitting right in front of me, I couldn't shake her image, and it bugged the hell out of me. So after struggling to get my bearings I finally pulled off the photograph from my wallet and gave it to The Tutor.
I asked her to please rid of it; I was too weak to do it myself. So I stood up and walked away.
"Thank you," I had told her.
And then...well, I never saw her after that.
Neither of them.
RSS Feed
