The Patient Sikh: Part Thirty-Six--Here I Go Again On My Own

This an excerpt from a novel in progress and a work of fiction.

So I think I might try doing this thing alone. This thing, this life, the whole thing. Why bother with people? I’m good alone. I feel like I know myself. I mean what is a self anyways, I guess I don’t know. Actually, I don’t know anything. I don’t know what I’m doing here, in college, in life.

I’m sick of this bullshit from people. I’m tired of being treated like crap. I feel like I want to run away, but where? And from who? I thought I needed to run away from my parents but it turns out assholes are omnipresent.

They are literally everywhere.

I’m sick. I’m sick of people.

I think I should go shopping.

I know, I know. My need to shop does not exactly follow from all of this. But I’m tired, tired of everything and everyone. I feel like my wardrobe is the only one that understands me. And I need some khakis. I was thinking of going to the Gap.

So I go to the bus stop for the bus heading to Briarwood Mall. It’s kind of a small, sad mall, actually. Downtown Ann Arbor is so cool that not a lot of people go to the mall. But if you really want to shop, I mean seriously, you need to go to the mall.

I find myself on a bus with random people who look like they have somewhere more important to go to the than the mall in the middle of the day, in the middle of the week. I’m skipping my English class because I haven’t done the reading anyways. I’m not interested in reading Dickens.

I know, I’m robbing myself of an education in order to shop. It’s a travesty.

I get to the Gap and find some khakis and I’m not sure if they make me look fat. I ask the saleswoman and she says they look great but she looks like a liar with her blond curls and her clipboard. I stare at my ass and I could have sworn it has gotten bigger, I’m one size up in pants. It’s the Freshman 15, the 15 pounds you inevitably gain when you enter college. Could it be the Hershey’s chocolate bars I keep eating every night? The pasta I pound down at dinner? It’s a mystery.

I get the pants and try not to think too much about my growing ass. The man at the cash register is skinny and black and probably gay. He is very nice and slightly fabulous with his bright pink shirt and earrings. I want to hug him. I want him to be my friend. Why don’t I have more gay friends?

I walk through the mall looking for chocolate chip cookies. I think they will help, help with all this negativity. I realize they are not going to help with the size of my ass, but whatever.

So I realize as I’m walking around alone in a desolate mall in the middle of a weekday, that I am alone. I am also lonely. The smart part of me knows I should never speak to Mona again. I don’t want to even think about whether she hooked up with, or slept with Sonny. I can’t go there with my mind. Maybe I’m in denial, but I have to protect myself from these ugly thoughts.

I pick up a couple of choclate chip cookies from the food court with a Diet Coke. I was going to get a regular Coke, but I feel like maybe this makes up for some of the sugar in the cookies. I’ll start my diet tomorrow.

I want to shake Mona and Sonny out of my system. I feel like the cookies might help. The new pants are making me feel a little better too. Yes, this is how I solve my problems, by eating and shopping. I mean what do you do?

I think I’m weak or something. I feel like I’m going to talk to Mona and Sonny again. I know I’m going to, who am I kidding. Am I just a sucker? Why do I keep going back to people who continue to fuck with me?

I get on the bus home and see a man walking with a cane. He looks Hispanic and I want to help him walk. He is elderly with gray hair and a beard. I want to be his daughter. I don’t want the family that I have or my friends. Can I trade lives with someone? Is it too late?

Sarita, now she’s a real friend. But how can I look her in the eyes if I’m probably going to invite these monsters back into my life? I go to the bathroom and look in the mirror, can I even look myself in the eyes?

Who am I? There is nothing wrong with Mona and Sonny. There is something wrong with me. They are having the time of their lives, living the good life. I don’t know how to live.

I don’t know how to be a person.

nina

If you would like to read the beginning of this novel in progress, The Patient Sikh, visit the following links in chronological order:

The Patient Sikh: Part One

The Patient Sikh: Part Two–The Wonder Years

The Patient Sikh: Part Three–Sonny

The Patient Sikh: Part Four–Song Lyrics

The Patient Sikh: Part Five–Your Song

The Patient Sikh: Part Six–Coffee Talk

The Patient Sikh: Part Seven–Chocolate Covered Love

The Patient Sikh: Part Eight–Kiss And Tell

The Patient Sikh: Part Nine–Street Chess