“Things like, knowing your feelings enough to actually feel them.”
He looked at me confusedly, again. I don’t know why I could
never put to words what I actually meant to say. He replied, “That’s the
opposite of how emotions work. You aren’t supposed to think about
them, you just let your instinct do all the work. No wonder you aren’t as
emotional as other people, you overthink it. You don’t need to think to
be upset with someone, or to cry when you’re sad or frustrated. Imagine
if every time you wanted to laugh, you thought about if you actually
wanted to laugh before responding.” He paused for a moment, and I
really thought about it in those terms. He continued, “By the time you
actually laugh, the joke would be long gone. I think you need to let go of
your thoughts a bit more…” He looked deep in thought. I knew he was
right, but didn’t know what to do about it.
The morning sun rolled across the sky effortlessly. We enjoyed the
nothingness of the country, and liked simply spending time with each
other. I couldn’t help but wonder what he’d been thinking of, though. It
felt wrong that he had to teach me about opening myself up to him. It
felt like I owed him more than that.
Soon after we had found something for breakfast, Eric offered
that we go on a walk. I knew the whole farm well enough to simply
venture off into the woods, so I led him out beyond the fields and
through the meandering paths of the forests. We soon stumbled upon
a place called the Boneyard. It was just a clearing in the trees that was
originally used as the site to throw old animal bones when there was
no more use for them. Now it was a just a place in the woods used for
shooting guns and bows to kill time. There was a jungle of old, rusted
metal pipes and shattered glass off in the distance. Makeshift targets had
been run through with arrows and bullets, leaving the reddish scraps of
metal looking dead or miserable, or worse.
Thwap! “Ouch!” I cried as I reflexively brought my leg up to
comfort the stinging pain. I turned and saw Eric’s unshaven face smirking
at me mischievously. He was holding a thin, but sturdy looking branch.
“What was that for?”
“I thought it’d be funny.” I cast him a half questioning, half
displeased glare. “Well, it was for me,” he muttered.
I gave no second thought to his spontaneity, and turned to lead
off our trek again. Thwap! My other leg burned from the reverberating
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