|If the Wind Could Carry Words
Author: Tathwem Essenuejal PM
A first person narrative I felt compelled to write. Walter sees his friend Darlene in remorse when he was leaving the school. After trying to console his friend who he had some feelings for Darlene bolts away. How can Walter profess his love to this girl?Rated: Fiction T - English - Romance/Friendship - Words: 2,613 - Reviews: 1 - Favs: 1 - Published: 03-30-10 - Status: Complete - id: 2790947
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
I was walking casually out of my chemistry class. I needed extra help all of these molar conversions were foreign to me. I normally don't need help with anything math related being a geek and all. I don't really care about what other people think of me, except for my friends of course. I wasn't afraid of admitting I needed help though, it would help me more in the end anyway.
I thought I was the last person left in the school, but I was wrong. I had just passed the corner that was the school library and sitting on top of the stairs with her face buried in her pale hands, hiding her gentle emerald eyes was my friend Darlene. Her short wheat field colored blond hair remained still except for occasional jump and it occurred to me she was sobbing; for reasons unbeknownst to me she was sobbing. I honestly don't think anybody in the school had seen her like this before. Normally she is the happiest, most outgoing person anyone has ever known, and to see her like this would stop anyone in their tracks.
I debated what I should do. Should I leave her to work out her own problems, or should I check on her? If she didn't want me there she could always just tell me she'd rather work it all out with herself. It would be best to at least try, and be a source of comfort, even though I am not that good at it. I can understand everything, but I never know the perfect words to say. No matter what I say at times like these, people just give a weak fake smile at most, and those kill me. To me it shows they are trying to smile just because I am their friend, which is nice gesture and all, but I know whatever I'm doing isn't working. This time I came in with the attitude that I couldn't fail hoping that it would work.
I walked up beside her and took a seat on the staircase next to her. I tried to be calm, but I was nervous beyond all belief. "Hey Darl," I said quietly hoping not to startle her. Darl was what all of her friends called her. There was a group of us, about eight people or so. We all just called her Darl. They had been calling her Darl long before I even knew her, and long before I even knew them as well.
I didn't startle her luckily. She looked up for a brief moment to reveal her face, while trying to hide how upset she was. "Hey Walter," she managed as she turned her head to look down at her feet.
I wanted to comfort her somehow, maybe put my hand on her shoulder at least, something to let her know I was there. Instead I asked, "What's wrong, you appear to be distressed right now." I kept my eyes on her hoping she would talk to me.
"I'd rather not talk about it," she began, trembling. "Well what I mean is; it's kind of awkward to talk about. I'm not sure that this is something to discuss with someone like you. I mean… it's difficult to explain. I don't think you'd understand."
"Alright," I sighed. "If you need to talk though don't be afraid to let me know." I began to stand up. I felt rather defeated, here I am trying to be a comprehensive friend, and there is nothing I can do. Of course maybe it's one of those things that girls talk about with other girls I thought, or maybe I just wouldn't be able to be of assistance, whatever the case may be I suppose it's neither one of our faults. It's nothing against me or her; there is no reason to feel defeated.
When I came to an erect position I heard Darl quiver, "Wait!"
"What?" I asked looking down on her as she looked up at me.
"Maybe you can help," she started uncertainly. "I'm not sure if you can, but I'm sure that this is better than doing nothing."
"Okay," I assured her. I sat down once again next to her on the staircase.
"I don't know exactly how to start," she admitted.
"Maybe from the beginning," I suggested slightly joking.
She gave a little chuckle, and flashed a quick, yet sincere smile, and then her facial expression returned to gloomy, and disheartened. It's always nice to see Darl smile. It's a sign that there is still good in the world, and I'm not just speaking from my own biased opinion, I mean the whole school agrees. She has a tendency to make people smile even in the worst of times. Of course right now she couldn't make herself smile, which would make more than just me concerned.
"Well I don't know this might be stupid to you," she began "I think about my future, and I am frightened of it."
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"I'm afraid of being forlorn I suppose," she admitted. "I know I'll always have friends, and family, but I mean just look at me Walter; I don't look anything like the other girls who are dating now. I'm afraid that no man would find me to be…"
"Darl I wouldn't worry that for a second if I was you," I protested. It hurt me to hear her talk about herself that way. She was an extraordinary person, and quite beautiful in my eyes. Admittedly she wasn't the stereotypical high school beautiful, but I didn't give a shit. Her personality couldn't possibly be matched by anyone on this earth. There is beauty in that; there is beauty beyond what physical appearances can tell us. Besides, beauty is in the eyes of the beholder, and as long as it is my eyes that behold her sight she is divinely beautiful. "You…"
"I appreciate the attempt at making me feel better, but tell me, do you know any man who would find me to be even reasonably striking?" she demanded.
"Walter please, I know your nature. You're kind, and caring," she began quivering again. "This is why I can't have this conversation with you, it isn't against you, but I'll never be able to get a direct answer. You're too focused on making people feel better about themselves." She stood up abruptly, and began to bolt down the stairs. She came to a brief stop to look back at me and say, "I'm sorry Walter." She then turned back around, and made a beeline for the door.
"Wait," I hollered as leaped to my feet and watched the door close behind her. "I love you," I whispered defeated. I whispered it so soft, as if she was right next to me to hear it, or as if it didn't matter how loud I said it, because she would hear it carried on the words of the wind. Of course I knew neither of these were the scenario. The facts were she was pretty far away from me by now, and it was impossible for the wind to carry my words. After a minute of pondering and yearning to have just that moment back so that maybe I could have said something sooner, something more meaningful; I realized that it was vain.
I walked home that day with Darl on my mind; of course how couldn't I? The luster of her magnificent emerald eyes was covered by a nearly invisible dust. The life of her carefree spirit that was such a source of great joy was flickering out like a candle down to the last of its wick. I didn't want to see it die; that light was too precious to all of us. Nobody could handle losing that light that would help us see beyond the bad times and into the good times. What was I to do though; I may never obtain the courage to profess my love for her again. The opportunity had left me.
When I had finished all my homework it was only seven. I had been doing the homework while pondering what to do; for Darl, and my own sake. I finally turned on the radio, hoping maybe that it would give me an idea, and it did.
I had just turned it on in time to get the split second between when the DJ talks and the intro of the song. The song was one of my personal favorites. The song was called "Love Me" by Collin Ray. The song was about a boy listening to his grandfather talk about his grandmother, and the love they had for each other. One special thing that the grandfather cherished was a letter that he found posted on the tree where he was supposed to meet her to runaway. The content of the letter was irrelevant to the content I would need to put in the letter I needed to write, however the idea of a letter was perfect. I would just slip it in her locker the next morning.
Of course there were two problems with this idea: there were no slits to slide the letter through, and even if there were I didn't know her locker number; okay those were major problems admittedly, but I'm sure I could figure something out.
I wrote the letter a couple times; it just sounded so outlandish. What was I to do? I needed to write something kind, yet not despondent. I needed the perfect words to say. Finally I decided that I just have to do my best. I put my pen to the paper for one more try.
In the aftermath of yesterday's events we left each other no better than before the conversation commenced. You obviously left with great remorse, which in turn was disheartening to me. You are obviously concerned about your future, and have become over exposed to the morals (or lack thereof; if I may say so) in today's society. I find it imperative that you understand that these morals are not the ones I live by. My standards are higher than just a simple physical recognition of what people says are "the perfect genes." My standards require that one should have the emotional and mental humility in order to follow a life style that is less lustful for the temptations that this world offers. In my eyes you have a beauty within, which brings more warmth than anyone else has to offer. Beauty, being in the eyes of the beholder, varies from person to person. In my eyes you have eternally divine beauty, which only a sadness equivalent to the sorrow you expressed could take away, but that could never stop me from loving you. Instead it forces me to yearn for the ability to assist you more.
I know right now you could be thinking many things. I comprehend that now you are faced with a decision, and a complicated one at that. I want you to know that after professing my love for you I do not expect, or need an immediate response. I do not want you to make a choice that isn't right for you either. I am not asking that you respond to me with an answer that might be more beneficial to me. In fact, by bestowing upon you this letter I prepare myself to face rejection of I must. If I wasn't willing to do this because of the possibility of having to face rejection it would show in my eyes that you wouldn't be worth having to go through this for, and you are far more worth it than you know.
You have a character that sheds more light in the darkness than anyone I have ever known; that is beauty. It is beauty that cannot be described by words that I know which is rather impressive. I just wanted you to know, that even if your feelings are not mutual, that is most likely that you can find a person who can care about you, and love you the way you deserve to be loved. This is high school and most people have fallen into the lie of the ill-virtuous culture that is being presented in a lot of today's popular entertainment. You deserve more than that. I thought you might like to know that.
When I had finished I looked the letter over. It was much too formal I thought. I couldn't help it though. I do that by habit when I write. It wouldn't be that big of a deal though; I thought, but then again it could be. Could my formality show the lack of comfort I feel around people? Could my writing, which relieved me of the negative deliberations I faced from day to day, be the she source of my downfall? Was I my own worst enemy?
I couldn't help it now; it was late, and I was fatigued. I would consider revising it tomorrow. Maybe I could make it more familiar, as if I am her friend, which couldn't be too hard, after all we were friends. It would be more appropriate I thought.
The next morning I roused at the sound of my alarm clock. I heard Toby Keith's song "My List" crescendo as my radio's volume went up. The song was playing as if it were a reminder that today I had a list of my own. I shut the radio off, prepared to face the day ahead of me.
I was still looking at that overly formal letter on my walk to the school. How could I edit this I thought. It was still a mystery to me how I could write so formally, and yet not find the words to make something seem more simple, more common, more friendly.
The wind was rather vigorous that morning, and maybe I shouldn't have had that letter within my hands, or maybe it was a good thing, to this day I still do not know which. As I walked under the bridge, which was directly before the school a dominant gust picked up, and swiped the paper from my grasp. I At that point I was thinking how stupid I was not to have typed it on the computer and save it as a document. Of course I watched it until it descended to the ground, in front of the feet of Darl herself. I was nearly petrified at the sight. I thought quickly as I saw her pick it up. I concealed myself behind one of the bridges cold cement support beams. It wasn't easy I had to climb a steep slope up a short distance, it was still hard though. I took one glance from behind the pole to see if she was still there, and indeed she was. She was reading the letter just as I intended it to be read, but I wasn't expecting it to be like this.
Behind that cold cement support beam I thought of what I had said the day before, "If only the wind could carry words." I nodded holding back a laugh, "Who knew?" I said. "The wind can carry words."