|
Together through the Distance
"Even though I don’t know him well, I feel a connection like we’ve met before"
By Nicolei Gupit
Listen
to this Commentary!
One hundred high school sophomores were assigned to write personal reflections as part of an essay contest at LA’s John Marshall High School. The winning entries were turned into audio essays through a collaboration between 826 LA, a writing program and Youth Radio, a youth media production company. Subjects ranged from multi-cultural identity, loss, relationships with parents to young love, reflections on the world, and teen idols. We're presenting some of these essays in our series High School Confidential. Today, Nicolei Gupit gives a poetic account of one experience with young love.
He and I walk in harmony.
His glasses are soaked from the rain.
I wipe them on my jacket.
Now the lenses are blurry.
Our clothes are soaked,
but I feel peaceful in the rain.
It signals a new beginning.
I'm not sure if I'm following him or if he's following me.
His glasses are thick and black.
He takes them off.
He laughs because of the horrible job I did cleaning them.
He says:
"At least you tried."
Our shoes leave tracks on the pavement.
We talk as long as the length we walk.
He's wearing a blue shirt and a khaki sweater on top.
They are darker because of the rain.
It looks like he was swimming with his clothes on.
His hair is messy yet flat.
I ask, "Are your parents gonna get mad if you come home wet?"
"It's not parents, it's just my mom,"
He smiles and his smile lines are visible and beautiful.
"Don't worry, she won't get mad."
I grip on the strap of my bag, tight on its coarse edges.
I can’t breathe.
There is a pause in my heart.
I remember what I learned about myself and my father of no name.
I felt empty and incomplete.
I didn't trust anyone who told me about my past.
He too has a mother and no father.
I don’t feel alone anymore.
Being with him makes me feel whole.
Even though I don’t know him well, I feel a connection like we’ve met before.
We’re like two hands that fit perfectly
We walk in the same direction.
I pay attention to nothing else.
The rain is loud around us but I only hear our voices.
We joke and laugh and say anything that comes up.
Everything else is a blur.
I say, “My eyes are black.”
He replies, “That’s impossible! No one has black eyes.”
I move closer to him and say, “Look!”
I stand close in front of him and stare straight into his eyes.
I look deep.
There are intervals of brown and black.
His skin is creamy and smooth and mocha.
His slow, light breath tickles my skin.
His eyes are fixed onto mine.
He squints then pauses for a moment and says, “See, they’re not black, they’re brown!”
I’m not sure what to say exactly, so I say, “My student ID says black, but another ID says dark brown. I think they turn brown in the sun.”
How embarrassing. Do eyes even change color?
The rain becomes lighter on our skins.
My feet are cold.
The pavement is dark and damp.
We come to the corner and he waits with me.
The light switches. Green!
I place one foot ahead.
He hugs me and I nearly lose my balance.
The rain is cold but his embrace is warm and comforting.
But it lasts only for a split second until he lets go and says goodbye.
He told me once he hugs all his friends as a way to say goodbye.
But it’s a little suspicious
because it’s weird imagining him hugging all his guy friends.
I don’t know what to say really.
I smile and say, “Bye.”
A few weeks pass.
Spring is here and we walk together.
The sky is a bright, radiant white.
He steps on the big stone in front of us, between the downhill sand ahead and the paved road behind.
I’m unstable on the long trails of cracks.
I’m scared of heights.
I tell him, “If you fall, I’m gonna kick you.”
He laughs, “So you would kick me even if I was already dead?”
I laugh too.
I say, “Yeah,” even though I feel dumb.
Why did I say that in the first place?
“Come,” he says.
He gives his hand to me and I accept it willingly.
I step onto the stone.
He firmly holds my hand.
I can see the city far and wide.
It’s beautiful beyond this mountain.
The city looks peaceful and promising.
He wraps his arms around me and holds close.
Love is complicated, but if you feel it, you know what it is.
I ask, “Does this mean we’re going out?”
He tells me, “Didn’t I tell you already?”
I say, “Yeah, but we didn’t really say it.”
“Okay then, Nicolei, will you go out with me?”
I answer, “Okay!” We smile at this new beginning together.
|
|
