Americans require more personal space
My family visited Arizona, once,opting to visit the red and orange reaching desert.After viewing spiraling towers crafted from ice floes, and rivers,and other miracles of earth, metropolitan fathers still drove the rental car.Museums and Rocky steps lead to proper fun. Not marveling in God’s splendor but exploring psychologyand the mind. My father and I found drops of creamy carpet to explain personal space. Closer and closer until we burst into laughter.Two dots merging to form a figure 8.So what happens when two teenagers go closer and closer until two bodies form a figure 11? What bursts out then? Nothing,they both know they’re too close, they both can see sparkling flecks of gold in eachother’s eyes.I counted his freckles, marking each one as a placeI longed to touch, to visit - to burn into my fingertips.But somehow, my white-stiched-bowling-“esque” shoeswere more beautiful than his face.My eyes wanted to build some Dionysus temple for him because his drinking was so darn cute.One step closer,one inch more,our noses would kiss before we would.But we started walking and he told me whenhe graduated from his mother.In the 11
month, one year before me.One year before now, my father and I learned that after 14 years, personal space existed.One year later, figure 11’s slid closer but couldn’t makeone.