Taylor Zavala

When in the Desert

A gust of wind wakes me. I raise my head, which hasn’t stopped pounding, off the rather comfortable rock I confided in to comfort me while I rest. Taking a mid-day hike in the Mojave Desert probably isn’t one of my greatest ideas. Though it beats some of my other proclaimed 'great ideas.' Like the time I got drunk and forgot I was lactose intolerant. Was the pint of rocky road worth it? Not exactly. But it was better than believing my girlfriend of two years would commit to doing distance with me while she would backpack Eastern Europe. I guess it would have been a good idea if it hadn’t resulted in her breaking up with me through this tiny black notebook we decided to send back and forth to one another. It was supposed to keep us close while being apart. She said there wouldn’t be a moment in her life that I wouldn’t be a part of, and I suppose she at least saw that promise thhrough. Would I have preferred a phone call? Goodness no. With the words engraved on this page, I at least can see her regret in triple underlining “This is my mistake.” And I wouldn’t have had the same clarity as provided through her extensive use of all caps in sentences like, “I didn’t sleep with her because of YOU, it’s because of ME, what I’M going through.”