Warning: This work has been rated 16+ for language.
So where do I begin? Today I had a great time with a friend, a very close friend. We ditched school, went to church, then to the library. It was freezing cold outside; my body shivering, face red, the tip of my fingers were numb and on fire, the wind didn’t help either. The ground was icy, and the fresh snow abundant. I wore: three shirts a black hooded sweater and dickies.
My friend, Marilu, is one of a kind. Never really met anyone like her in my life; she's an intelligent, outgoing, funny person. To me she's also classy: the posture, the clothes, her manners, she's just wow. She's help me with allot, so much said and done and finally I feel better, she was the remedy needed. As I opened up to her she opened up to me. I just hope I’ve helped her as much as she has helped me.
It’s about eight A.m., six hours till we head back to school after the final bell rings so I can get picked up by my parents. Ok now, "why church?" Well, let me explain: it is the only place I actually feel comfortable in. So peaceful, so quiet, it helps me think. And with her by my side I feel good, allot better than good, I feel great, and thank God for that because I didn’t feel great earlier. My palms sweaty, heart racing, body numb, and i can neither walk nor think straight. My body aches, and my breathing weak, I suffer from anxiety. As I look back, the symptoms stretch back years. I just dealt with my troubles, as I always have dealt with life, by myself.
As we sat down in the warmth of God I felt a sense of peace. I think allot, no, I over think. As I look around and see statues, commemorations, and emptiness around the church, I just can't help but to look at her. Her, with her glasses, smooth coat, smooth black hair, and nice posture. Strange of a guy like me, to hang around with a girl like her. Loving, caring, mother like, generous, funny, kind, understanding, lovable, that is what I see. As said I over think and I don't want to lose her, and so because of that, I am cautious. All for me, I guess you can call me selfish, in the end I wouldn't care.
I am the average kid. I live on the south side of Chicago; cold, cruel, and filled with drama. Enveloped in negativity and consumed by rage and the feeling of isolation I paved my road. In constant conflict with myself, with her, I am at rest. I can think and breathe. I asked, how do you confess in church? How does the process start? Where do you go? Her, doing all that is needed of you in religion tells me. Why do I ask? You can only imagine. I have confessed not in a religious manner but something i felt close to it. The feeling of vulnerability, i opened up to her. These emotions spilled over levies and the flow of salt water ran down my face and the storm raged in my throat. Finally, the first out of so many: teenagers, adults, friends, family, counselors, who sees right through my internal barrier as if it was glass with no real effort needed. I feel understood and cared for, and boy is it a great feeling.
The Kids that go to school at the church came in and had music class within the church itself. Oh how I love the melody echoing throughout the church and into my head. I play the saxophone and proud to say good at it. I love it when in class I set everything up and just play, everyone stops and listens. Goes to show talent runs in the family, my brother played the trombone; he went to band competitions and everything. My big brother, Enrique, always wanted the best for me. As I ignored his warnings I fell into a pool of disease. So I deserve to be where I am now, a has been.
As we left church I had a sense of loneliness and i didn’t know why. To my surprise she held onto my arm on our Way to the library. That is the reassurance I needed from her, her letting me know she does want to be with me. We walked down Nineteenth Street and with that memories of ditching school with friends, the gangs, past events came to mind. I can't help but to look up and read the street names at every corner even though it wasn't necessary since I knew where I was going. As I look up with the sun in my eyes, I read: 19th, laflin, Blue Island, loomis. I try not to let my past bother me but I can't help it at times.
We got to the library; this was our second attempt to get in since it was still closed the first time we arrived. This time, open, we went inside. I looked around and many either avoided looking at me or couldn't help but stare a bit. Its ok, I'm used to it. Awkward not wanting to sit down, I went around looking at books. I hate reading, so many books most cliché or just flat out boring, ugh! Me being a bit bored I decided to fool around a bit.
I told her something stupid something that envolves my past and she got upset.The more I said it the more noticably bothered she was."Black and gold" i said. I felt bad though, so I hugged her. Her still upset I didn't care I thought it was cute. When I hug her, I block everything out, and the only thing on my mind is her. The feeling of her soft warm body pressing onto mine; my heart races and my emotions set on her. To me, it feels as if we are the last couple on the dance floor at prom with us under the spot light dancing to a slow song. I love showing her how much I care for her because growing up affection was hard to come across. With that, and maybe, because of that I was always quiet. Men suffer in silence, and in silence, we die. With her, I am no longer quite but as loud as I can be and because of her I am saved. The warmth of her body still onto mine, I love you.