"I've seen New York, Washington, Hollywood…" I listed the tour so far, and then the intended route I was to take when it kicked back in. We sat in a serene coffee shop, on the campus of his school, just the two of us outside in the fresh air. By fresh I mean cold enough to keep my scarf and jackets (hoodie and denim jacket) on but clearing enough and bright enough to put up with.
"And what do you plan to do while you wait in Washington?"
"At some point," I began, but caught my brashness and leaned in, "you."
He grinned at me and then coughed, "I mean, who can blame you?"
I hit him on the arm playfully and we leaned back into our chairs to laugh.
"What do you do to kill time here?" I asked him, looking around at the green and the grey, arranged so neatly and preserved so fastidiously.
"I haven't seen much of this city, or of the country; I study most of the time."
"Sounds awful."
"I like my studies. It's interesting, and it's relevant, and it helps to be prepared for the day I'm the one making history."
I regarded him then. His chest puffed up a little, his features rested in a way I had not yet seen, and with his accent… Well to be honest, it was frightening to hear. He sounded so driven and determined but without leniency, like a bull about to be locked into a china shop.
"So you're a pretty important guy?"
His hands came together, fidgeting and he looked down to them, checking himself before he wrecked himself I suppose. "Everyone in politics is important, no matter how big or small their title or their role is."
"I always hated politics in school. I stayed away from it in uni."
"I thought you said you never went to college."
"I studied in the UK. They have universities there." I smiled, a common mistake that was made in this country, especially with my accent coming from here and not Italy or England.
"What did you study?"
"You sir, are looking at a possessor of an Honours Degree in Global Cinema."
"What use is a degree like that?"
I burst out laughing and he began to apologise. I interrupted him.
"Exactly! It got me an office job at a media company that, to this day, I still have no idea what they claim to do to make money. I never advanced or gelled with the people there and so I took all of my holidays at once to come home and see my family in the States and never went back to the UK."
"So how do you come now to be following your friend in a band?"
"I saw her play near my home town; the band are from the UK and they're trying to break here. She recognized me at the end and we started talking, and smoking green, and she said 'just follow us; see America; get out of your own head.'"
"Green?"
"I'm not carrying any now." I smiled at him, amused by his shock.
"So what was so bad about being in your own head?"
"Do you really want to know?"
"You don't have to tell me."
"No, I mean it, if you don't actually want to know, we can gloss over it and," I settled my hand over his, "see where we go from here."
He took my hand in his and stared at it for a moment before telling me, "I don't meet many people, and I don't get girl's phone numbers at concerts and meet with them… ever. It's strange and unusual but I like you a lot more than… I like you. Tell me."
I kissed him. Nice and gently.
"Okay."
I explained I was the youngest of nine. My parents pained over their first three, got lax by the next four, lost interest in the next two and so by the time I was becoming a problem, they had no approach except from support. There was no guidance like my oldest siblings had, driving them to good grades; good jobs; good spouses and now they were all having children. There was no creative encouragement like the next four had, making them creative and lateral-thinking and seeing them in weird jobs or as business owners in weird sectors. The next two have drug problems and prison issues, serving up to my family all of the drama they could need in life, and so I was… lost. I was always told, 'it'll all work out' 'you'll figure it out' 'when God closes a door, a window opens'… I grew up on television and the cinema, so that's where my studies swayed to but for what?
For who?
I didn't stand out intellectually, or physically or financially or socially. I'm a wave in the ocean doing nothing but turning the sand. I have no real ties to the world, and in uni I just realized I didn't even have a nationality to build on: I'm a dislocated Italian living in America, learning then working in England and I've not one real event in my life to look back on and say… Anything. I've been a part of nothing. I have achieved what feels like nothing.
I didn't tell him though, that the gaping void of nothingness in my reflection on my life and my self made me wonder what the point of going on was. I was as well slicing open my wrists and letting them flow out for all the impact I was making.
When I asked why he was doing what he was, he answered, "My father was a soldier, and his father, and his. It's what men in my family do."
Jealousy pulsed within me, but I didn't blame him for it. I smiled and said he was lucky to have that.
