Sine Wave

by katyhuff

Walked across campus instead of biking, just for kicks, and it was noteworthy as usual.
A tall man with ever saltier salt and pepper hair walked from the chemistry building intently text messaging. His eternal inability to walk and text at the same time not only meant I could identify him from across the quads but that his pace slowed and stopped then picked up again then slowed and stopped three times before I caught up to him and nuzzled his startled sweatshirt. We commiserated on the difficulty of text messaging and jumped headfirst into our frenzied friendship for the furlong between chemistry and crerar.

Luka only sees me a few times a quarter, so we have the bizarre experience of seeing each other’s lives in monthly digests. We’re close though, because for some reason we talk only about science and romance.

The last he saw me, my misty eyes and I were leaving the scene of a late night break-up, so in the span of five minutes I updated him to all the science and romance in my last month and a half… and as I did, of course, I beamed.

… and he called me a sine wave.

so now I want nothing more than to review myself in monthly digests in the hopes I might determine my phase, my amplitude, my intercept, my frequency…
Imagine the possibilities… if I had a frequency… I could resonate.