Chapter 7
This Life

“The words of the American Declaration of Independence ring: right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. This is what America is about: the pursuit. Notice that the framers did not write that people had the outright right to happiness. No, that would have been far too easy. You see, America has become to be defined by this statement, this turn of phrase, which will promise you the chance to pursue all your wildest dreams, lest you achieve some, that you can began your pursuit over again. Europe is a continent defined by its history; America is defined by the lack of history. America is an idea. It was born out of an idea and has thrived upon many more. Philosophers believed the skies were higher in the United States. What was this open space used for? It was space for the mind, space for thought. When you begin to grasp the concept of the America, then you will begin to understand her and the literature that has been written about her.” Mr. Johnson’s emphasis has ended sharply on the word ‘her’. His hand poised in the air with the pointer and thumb pursed together as if to place the importance directly into our minds.
“Can you see it?” A voice from behind startles me as it whispers delicately in my ear. I turn around so quick that Christopher is forced to jerk back.
“What are you doing here?” My voice sounds more accusatory than I had imagined it in my head but he had caught me off guard. I notice the strange feeling that is left in me at the surprise site of him, a mixture of anger, annoyance, and… love.
“I teach this class. Remember?” His voice is haughty but doesn’t explain why he chose to sit in the BACK of a class that he normally instructs but today has let a visiting American professor lead. “Oh, come on Maria, how long are you going to leave me in this state or purgatory?”
“What the bloody ‘ell are you on about?”
“This state of unknown, either we’re friends or we’re not. We’re together or we’re not…. I’ve missed you.” The fact that he is still behind me has prevented me from fully seeing his face on this last statement.
“Thank you class, I will be here all week helping Professor Woolsey.” All the students immediately began to pack their things and talk amongst themselves. That was one thing I always enjoyed about English classrooms, nobody started packing before the professor was finished.
“Christopher”, I say as I stand up to face him and put away my things, “I would prefer you not say those things unless you are in the position to do something about it. I have never said that we can’t be friends but it’s going to take some time for me.”
“Right, of course love, He leans in to wrap his arms around me and give me a kiss on my cheek, whispering into my ear, “I’m sorry.”
I want to melt and scream at the same time. Once, after we had broken up, Sarah saw him do this very same routine- a strong hug and a kiss on the cheek. Her response had been, “I’d still be in love with him too if he gave me hugs like that.”
I didn’t have a response at the time, and there was none for me right now. I nodded and walked quickly out of the room…

“He’s an arrogant prick and you shouldn’t be talking to him.” Sarah’s statement is punctuated by her slamming beer. Ah beer and girlfriends, it’s what makes the world go round.
‘I just…”
“No, listen to me. Maria, I’m going to be honest with you. You might not want to hear this but it is the truth. You like a lot of people and a lot of people like you. It happens. You can find someone else. You know that. I know when you met Christopher, it was amazing but he’s not the end of your life. He’s not John.”
“Thanks” I mutter and turn to gaze out the window. The campus was beginning to weigh down on me.
“Besides, what the hell was that purgatory comment about? I told you not to date someone in the English department, they are entirely too melodramatic. Remember the time he thought you were dating Stephen and he text-messaged you: I want to expose your tangled web of lies. Give me a fucking break. Maria, you know what your problem is?”
“No, please tell me.” I smile at her but she doesn’t appreciate my sarcasm.
“You want excitement and depth. You want someone that is passionate yet analytical. You want this crazy mix of person that, well, just ends up being crazy. If you would settle down with a nice normal guy maybe you wouldn’t have all this drama. I mean, seriously, you should write a book about all these experiences. Are you listening to me?”
I was still gazing outside of our college pub, considering where else I could go to get away from here.
“Do you want to go to Spain?” I’m still looking at the passing college kids when I say this, asking myself and Sarah at the same time.
“What? I mean, Ok, but why?”
“I don’t really want this life”
My statement has caught us both off-guard. It was one of those moments when you speak the real truth and it scares the shit out of people. One of those moments that if you don’t change something immediately then you will know you lost your chance.
“Yeah… well right now it’s the only one you got.” We gaze at each other for a few moments to let the sentence sink in.
Slowly Sarah lifts her drink, “Finish your beer; we have a plane ticket to buy.”