Where Do I Go?
Author's note: Attempt at an ipod challenge story. Italicized lyrics are from the song Where Do I Go? From the musical Hair. I don't own Hair or RENT. I've also taken some liberties with Collin's past.
Where do I go
Follow the river
I didn't go back to NYU this fall. I stayed with Angel right until the end. The school granted me a semester of personal leave, so I was able to be with her until the end. Now that she's gone, I'm lost, unsure of where to go or what to do.
Where do I go
Follow the gulls
I've lost people in my life before. My parents died in an accident when I was in college. My mother always wanted to see Greece, so I visited the Parthenon in her honour. Dad loved to take risks, and was quite the prankster. I don't think he would have run naked through a historical landmark, but I know he would have smiled if he saw me do it. I drifted a little then, but since I was already an adult, I quickly learned to move on, turned back to my studies and continued to live my life. A few years after I moved to New York, I learned that I was HIV positive when one of my former lovers told me he had AIDS. He died soon after; as did several of my other friends. I put my energy into raising awareness, but their deaths were more removed from me. I only saw those people periodically. I was closer to April, but by the time she and Roger got together, I was already teaching at MIT.
Where is the something
Where is the someone
That tells me why I live and die
I'm lonely. I've gotten out practice being alone. Ever since I met her on Christmas Eve, Angel and I had been together almost constantly. Oh, we'd go our separate ways during the day: I'd teach my classes and she'd busk or do odd jobs, but after work hours were over, we were rarely apart. She was the missing piece of myself and I only felt complete when I was with her. She was the sunshine that made my life brighter and more interesting. I found myself waking up earlier in the day just so I could be with her longer.
Where do I go
Follow the children
Where do I go
Follow their smiles
Is there an answer
In their sweet faces
That tells me why I live and die
Angel always liked walking in the park. We'd watch the young families playing and dream of one day having a child of our own. We'd pick out names and imagine watching our child grow up. Sometimes Angel would give a frustrated mother a break and hold a fussy baby or entertain a toddler on the swing set. She was so good with children. The crankiest toddler would be all smiles and giggles after only a few minutes with her. But even though we'd daydream about a future where we could get married and easily adopt a baby, we were truly just content lying in each other's arms.
Follow the wind song
Follow the thunder
Follow the neon in young lovers' eyes
Down to the gutter
Up to the glitter
Into the city
Where the truth lies
We toured most of the city before Angel got sick. On days when we had enough money, we'd pick a subway line and follow it out to the furthest stop, then explore the areas near each station. She normally could convince the transit authority security to issue us free transfers. We finished all the subway lines, and had talked about exploring the bus routes in a similar manner before she got sick. Angel cheerfully accompanied me to museums and lectures, and in return, I helped her scrounge materials for her outfits and was the model when some of her larger friends wanted her to design new drag wardrobes for them. She had friends in many places, and soon I became accepted into her circles, just as Mark, Roger and Maureen welcomed her to our little family.
Where do I go
Follow my heartbeat
Where do I go
Follow my hand
Where will they lead me
And will I ever
Discover why I live and die
As Angel became weaker, we didn't go out as often, and when we did, Angel didn't have the energy to dress in drag. We'd walk quietly through the park. Sometimes she'd get so tired that I'd have to hold her up when we went to the subway. All too soon, our outings became visits to the hospital. First they were just appointments to monitor her medication, but the stays gradually became longer and longer. Towards the end, I stayed with her as much as the nurses would let me. They'd look the other way when I'd climb into the bed with her, knowing that my presence eased her pain more than the drugs they tried to inject into her. We didn't say much in the last days, but relished each other's presence. I held her as she slipped away.
Why do I live
Why do I die
Since Halloween, I've been drifting from day to day. Some days, I visit the places Angel liked: Central Park, the market, the community centre with all the murals painted by children. I'd remember her laugh and her dancing. On other days, I'd wish for the world to swallow me whole. Angel had made me promise not to escape, so I'd go to Life Support instead of hiding under the blankets. I worked on little projects that I think she'd approve of, like rewiring the Food Emporium and submitting articles to various journals. Maybe one day, Actual Reality may appear in an academic revue. I watched in amusement as Mark tried to keep a straight face when announcing the upcoming Buzzline segments.
A year to the day that I met Angel, I realized it was time to go back to living. I left a message at the Dean's office that I was coming back, then stopped by the Food Emporium and loaded up supplies. It was time for me to get back to my family.
Tell my why
Tell me where
Tell my why
Tell me why