What Ales Me? — Day 18

The twins left that afternoon and I had to face my cofounders alone. I kept Eleanor’s scarf though and breathed it in as I twisted to key to enter my dorm. Expecting three faces to pop up like lemurs, I steeled myself – ready to defend and hide the details of the conversation that could change my life and legacy for generations. But there was no one there. For the first time in days, my dorm was quiet and empty. I hurried into my room and locked the door behind me.

My pillow felt too high on the right side, so I punched it down, but then it was too low and smashed. I squeezed a center-mountain into it and my face disappeared until I could no longer breathe. I stood over the pillow and gently petted it to level. There was no use. I threw the pillow at the half-opened window above my bed, and it nearly flew out. I sat on the side and began to cry.

This was the third time I’d cried in Boston, and I’d only been there for a few weeks. Before, I could count on my hand the number of times I remember crying. I never wore that fact as a badge of honor, it was simply not my way to be emotional. I walked or read or wrote or ruminated. But here, I was different.

I was powerful apparently in business. I was creative in tech. I embraced sex and did not dwell on the loss of my virginity. I considered my own advancement and the advancement of my circumstance like a man would. This was a woman I should be proud of but there I was a mess of blubber and tears. Looking at myself in the mirror, I realized, perhaps, that I should turn more internal.

I could do this! I could address my own pain and struggle and discomfort. Alone in my dorm room, I could handle this because I needed no one! I rubbed my determined hands together, closed my tired eyes and thought of Flavor of Harvard.

It’s going to be big; I knew. It captured something unexpected, but I wasn’t afraid of it at all. I deserved this. I searched my heart and gut for nervousness or anxiety and found none. I moved on to the next mountain – Z.

I’d met a billionaire in secret. I’d been offered many millions for a days-old concept. I should be overwhelmed to say the least. That would be a clear source of confusion and turmoil. I was human, after all. I searched myself and found calm. Either I was a full-fledged narcissist or more confident than I’d initially thought. My mind came up with a genius App, therefore I deserved the offer, even if it was in secret and a bit shady. I shook my head, refusing to be the girl who hangs her head with imposter syndrome. Why should I? So, I moved on to the next one.

 My forehead scrunched as my mind looped back to the stream of blood running down my leg. Loss. Ache. Vulnerability. Ahh, yes. This needed to be addressed.

“I doesn’t matter who takes your virginity,” I whispered through my fingers. “Does it?”

I wished I could zoom out of this issue and bury it for later, but it lingered. Logically, this should’ve been the least of my worries. I’d planned this – ho-phase etc. I’d covered this in my pre-college plan. I’d read about this. Projected myself forward and into this very scenario – undergraduate exploration sex was a life box to check and those who left it blank regretted it in middle age.

“You’re checking a box, Sophia,” I said to myself. “Get yourself together.”

Then, I placed my face in my hands and saw flashes of Wesley at the center of it all. Every win. Every loss. Everything was centered around him. Even the App itself was conceived to save him from his Fellowship overseas. Anger crept in.

Fucking, Wesley. Sometimes literally, fucking Wesley. I needed to fix this before my entire house of cards fell for a mediocre guy with his pants in his butt. I powered up the phone Rosa had given and logged into the App I’d created.

I’d been looking at this all wrong. I, Sophia, had unlimited access to the backend and front-face of an application where Boston’s most eligible, and most powerful, men had registered. This was a dream that I was sleeping on.

“Fuck fucking Wesley,” I said quickly scrolling through endless rich and successful and talented future masters of the university, and ultimately, the universe.

I fell asleep scrolling and woke up to a pitch-dark room only to pick up where I left off. I’d already squandered too many days. This was a once in a lifetime opportunity, and I wasn’t going to miss it.