I was naked as a jaybird. I did my best thinking in those days unencumbered by clothing, or by any other thing.
I stayed in my dorm room bed most of that afternoon, hands clasped behind my head. If you’d been there to ask me what I was thinking about, I wouldn’t have known what to say at the time. Thoughts whirled in and out and around me, through the air it seemed; I was vibrating with thought, but I couldn’t quite capture one thread and run with the thought of it, taking it from a confounded beginning to its logical end.
But now, with time having passed, I can tell you what I was thinking that day.
I had a choice to make, and it was a tough one. I had to decide between sharing my genius, or to hold it close to the vest, keeping it just between the girl and me, communicating physically and emotionally, keeping to ourselves in our own close-knit world.
This wasn’t one of those ‘have your cake and eat it, too’ deals. She’d made that clear.
She’d said to me…Sparky, it’s close to the vest or nothing at all, my man.
Finally, with the afternoon withering down into darkness, I made my decision.
The world needed me, and I would be there for it when the time came; when I graduated and made my way to Gotham, storming the doors and making a name for myself. But the girl didn’t need to know about that until the semester ended.
Even so, I never forgot her and I never forgot her words to me. And even though I let her go, I kept the vest part, and I made it her favorite shade of blue.