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Our first encounter and an exploration of her body.
I shut down again.
Amy was rarely around, as she was dating a guy who lived off campus. However, when I went three days without seeing Maria, she came and knocked on my door, which I had been leaving shut. I opened the door for her.
"Hey, where have you been?"
She looked at me and asked, "Are you okay, sweetie?"
I sighed. "Come in."
After we sat down, she pressed me, "What's going on?"
"Mike is moving... to Spain."
I rubbed my face to try and hold back tears. "I'd thought that at some point, he and I would talk again. But now, he's not just staying away from me, he's completely leaving."
Maria came over to me and hugged me.
"Honey, it'll be okay. I don't have any idea what he's thinking, but I'm sure he's hurting, too. He may not know what else to do."
Maria and I sat together talking for a long time. She did her best to comfort me, but the pain was still too fresh. There was no comfort. Eventually I went to bed. I would wake up several times every night, feeling like his arms had just been around me and then were gone.
The next day, Maria met me for lunch and then after my last class, which was in a building near her class. She asked what I was planning on doing and I said that I wanted to go to the performing arts center to play. She asked if she could come and, for the first time, I said yes.
We stopped by the dorm and picked up my violin before walking across campus to the performing arts center. I went in through the side door, with Maria trailing behind, and went to the wood room. Even though I hadn't played in there for awhile, it was still my favorite room and helped to set me at ease now that I'd be playing in front of someone I knew.
Inside, Maria commented, "Wow, this is a really beautiful room. This is where you play all the time?"
I answered her, "Not always. There's other rooms that I like, because they're used less and I'm less likely to be interrupted."
She went and sat in a chair on the side of the room, well away from the performing area. I prepared my violin and went to the front of the room.
I raised my arms and began, "Adagio for Strings" by Samuel Barber. It reflected my mood. I started quietly, timidly, but soon lost myself as I built to the crescendo. I fell back into the melancholy of the piece and by the time I reached the final bars, I was playing as quietly as I could, to the point that I could barely hear my the final notes. I pulled my bow away from the strings and looked up at Maria.
She was crying.
She stood up and walked quickly to me, before throwing her arms around me.
"Honey, that was beautiful. I can't even describe it."
I rested my head on her shoulder and cried, too. We quietly walked back to the dorm, with my arm in hers. I was thankful to have a friend that I could share myself in that way with.
The next day, I stopped by Dr. Vargas' office in the health center. I didn't have an appointment, but by this point, she knew me well enough to know what kind of state I was in and invited me in.
After a quick hello, she got right to the point and asked me what was wrong. I told her that Mike was moving to Spain and that I felt like he didn't even want to be in the same country as me. She sighed and assured me that wasn't the case. If anything, she thought that he was running away from dealing with his life here.
We talked for about fifteen minutes, but she had another appointment. I apologized for taking her time and, as always, she told me to stop by any time I needed to. I thanked her and headed back to my dorm.
I had a hard time focusing on studying that night. I just kept rolling around in my head all of the reasons why Mike could be leaving. By the time I went to sleep, I just kept thinking over and over, it's time.
The next morning, I woke up a bit early and went to the dining hall for a quick breakfast.