A Piece Of Life In Providence

From my journal:

3.9.2000

I'm sitting here at this desk, facing a wall, but I have a framed picture of my Sparky tilted and resting against it. This moment I see him there, on the beach in Charleston. His curly hair is moved, but captured still, by the Atlantic breeze.
I know that he's looking down - reading the instructions to the camera I used to take the picture. But it looks like he's sad or wistful, posing maybe.

It's a great picture to look at. I takes me back to the moment as a picture should.

I am surrounded by my Sparky. The bible he bought for me back in 1996, the printer he's letting me use, his note he left for me in my book sack for my first day of class... even so... I miss him.

My room mate is leaving tomorrow for the weekend so I have three days alone with my thoughts. I'm considering some studying.

There are a few prospects in the friend arena. I have to decide whether or not to discard my hermit crab shell. To call or not to call - that is the question. It is almost like I don't want to belong here. Actually, it's exactly like that.

I like the adventure part, but the actual "living" here thing isn't conforming with what I consider to be my identity.

I look back at the picture of Eddie. I can see my reflection in the glass. We're almost together in the picture. My eyes fit perfectly in the middle of the sky.