January 5th, 2018
Part 3
I got our chai tea lattes and joined you at our table in the middle of the cafe. I moved my chair directly next to yours, so I could follow along as you read the first 45 pages of the script.
You excitedly asked me questions with every page turned, every question beginning with a gasp.
“Is she okay???” “Is that her???” “Oh no!!! Is he okay???” “What happens next???”
After you finished, I shared with you some story details, and there was another gasp followed by a “wow!”
You would then go on saying that this was going to be my “masterpiece” and that you were going to have a part in it no matter what I say.
After some walking around, and you trying to rap, we eventually made our way upstairs and deposited ourselves across from each other in two wooden chairs next to the balcony.
You took your chair, and moved it right up to mine.
“You’re really close...” I said, feeling my heart starting to race.
You smiled knowingly.
“The closer, the better.”
What words we shared escape me. All I remember is a slight increase in my breathing, and some talk about raw unfiltered emotions being the best way for us to successfully communicate our feelings.
The topic would switch to poetry and my script.
“Where’s the poetry section?” you asked. I looked over the side of the balcony to where the poetry section was located.
“If you look out over the store, you might see it.”
“Jackie Pants, are you really going to do this to me?”
“Yes.”
You didn’t see it.
“It’s right there...” I said, pointing down at the sign that said in big letters “Poetry.”
Your eyes lit up, and you ran off downstairs.
I quickly texted a friend who knew we were together “Omg, she is all over the place. She just ran off to grab some poetry for us.”
“Oh, dear lol,” she replied back.
I looked over the edge and saw that you had a stack of books in your arms. You looked back up at me, smiled, opened your mouth, and stuck your tongue out followed by running back upstairs.
You dropped the stack of books on the table off to the side, and proceeded to show me what you brought:
1. Wild Embers by Nikita Gill, a favorite of yours and mine.
2. Another book with “princess” in the title that slips my mind.
3. Some other books.
4. Five different copies of Dante Alighieri‘s the Inferno.
Picking the Inferno stack up, you said “I got all of these because the covers are really awesome!” They were beautiful covers, each one more dark and haunting than the last.
You would then show me the other books in your stack, and I would listen to your rapid delivery as you told me why you loved this book, or why you loved that book.
After, you opened Wild Embers, and began reading.
I didn’t start. I don’t think I ever did. I may have tried to read from the stack of books, but nothing was connecting.
Instead, I was still looking at you, your eyes pouring over the words before you on the pages.
I was seeing you. I was seeing all of you.
There was a sadness in your eyes.
There was a pain in your heart.
There was a darkness within.
There were cracks, fractures, and there were missing pieces, but everything was you.
You were authentic.
You were poetry in motion.
We ended up having an impromptu photo shoot at our spot upstairs, and it was fun.
Those pictures would end up being a favorite of yours during a dark time in your life, something you would express further upon in late March.
“My stomach...” you say, looking sad. “I’ve only had the latte, so I’m feeling nauseous.”
“Would you like to go to dinner?” I ask without hesitation.
Your eyes light up, and you excitedly let out an enthusiastic “Yes!!!”
After putting the stacks of books away, we left Barnes and Noble for the night, and went to go find some food.
- Jaclyn