The story never told
Shakespeare said once; “To be or not be? That is the question to be asked”. In some extent the man could not have had got it more right. I always wondered; is it just me or is that my whole believes were mislead, judgmental or worst, faked. In our young years of age, the years when we are taught the essence of everything which is proper, adequate and Descent. However, we manage by somehow and within the process of growing up, to brake all of these moral lessons that we have learned and by the time we figure that up, it is usually too late. We try and we expect to succeed, we aim but always not high enough, we expect so much from others but so little from ourselves…
One wise friend told me once:”quitting; the unique mistake that cannot be forgiven; because it is always too late, and even when you do you find out the hard truth the other person has already moved on, as for you there is another striking truth which comes to the surface; you probably may have lost what could have been your sweetest dream”
There are some facts in life that we simply cannot control. Such as faith, the weather, the flow stream of a river, thus, there are things that might be changed as hard as they might appear… I shall speak, and hope for my words to be heard, I shall tell and hope that my story would come to use and I shall dream and hope for my dream to come true.
We all had friends to whom we refer to as reserved, actual people with whom we avoided all kind of talks concerning the sexuality in our lives or even about the plans we have done or consider doing, because it is always one of the two cases; if you are among a group, the others began teasing and annoying the person in question, and if you are alone, you sense some kind of a dislike expressed from your friends behalf that pushes you to conclude that your speech is displeasing if not annoying. After two or three times hoping that you’ll get along you try to avoid any subject of the kind so that no air of awkwardness occupies the atmosphere.
Insecure, unconfident and with a communication skills of a 10 years old kid; that’s how he was seen by people who didn’t know the first thing about this person; the only way that they knew to define who he was, was by applying and speculating some kinds of stereo types which had no such whatsoever relationship with who he really was. He passed high school in shadows, his friends were very limited if not inexistent and with almost no social life. It is funny actually, since that In our present world it is the outside which’s matters, few who are the ones who see the rightful core of people, the majorities are doing nothing but judging a book from it cover…
The reason for which I keep bringing the misjudgment is quite simple; Robert, our mysterious friend had a pretty rare gift, a gift that men have a lack of; some call it an art, but I call it just a mean, a mean to an end. He had the ability to analyze people, to listen to them, and know what they don’t know about themselves, what they refuse to admit or what they can’t say out loud. Did he have friends? No. was he popular? No. had he got any luck in his private life? Au contraire I would say that he had the gift of screwing things up with every girl he met. So anyone with any sense of logic would automatically assume that the person in question is either crazy or delusional. Reason for which I said earlier to not judge someone basing upon what others say, it is the same thing as defining the quality of a wine just by looking at it… but no ! You have to sense it, taste it and then enjoy it; other ways liking or disliking it would be a worthless opinion since it is baseless. When you are enduring some kind of psychological pressure, you go to a shrink and he is supposed to know how to ease your pain, what type of medicine to prescribe you and eventually how much time you need to recover. Nevertheless, there is a question I often ask myself; why can’t a shrink heal himself? I mean if he has the ability of healing other people and know the resolution to their problems he should be able to do the same when he is in trouble; but no, he cannot. Well dear friends the same concept is applied to Robert. He sees in you what other can’t see, he understands things that others can’t grasp and can feel things that other never know that you have them in you. In order for everyone to understand, here is a set of stories that could have happened to many people, you could even find yourself among them… the persons in these stories could be you, could be me, could be your best friend; could be anyone. Before I begin telling the story of these individuals you have to know three things they all had in common; they are all in their flourishing years of youth, the years when we dream big but we aim low, when we try to understand but to many facts are interfering, and the ones when we keep wondering: is he/she the one? Is he/she any better from the one before him/her? The second point in common is that they all seek the same goals; esteem from the other, love and care from the other in times of need and pain, so at least by then you won’t say that you wasted your time in vain. The last point, and it is the most important one I believe, it is that they all have a beauty within them that differs from one to another; a beauty if seen on it true and proper value by someone, then no words could contain them, only an everyday action that will prove this person is worthy of such bless.
Her name is Cecile, a 20 years old young lady who only wanted one thing, she wanted from people to get to know her before judging her, to at least know what she is really made of before giving arbitrary opinions about her. She was a lady who could be defined by the words of today as attractive, sexy, her physical aspect was too attractive for men that there was no room for anything else on their minds if she accepts to date one of them. No one ever tried to know what she liked to do on her spare time, or what she wanted to be in five or ten years from now, none. She and Robert met in a café down south, she was joking with her friends and he was sitting by himself enjoying his cup of coffee. Bit by bit, he couldn’t help overhearing a big controversial debate upon the name of a movie; a movie that he had already seen. So he entered the conversation and eventually asked for another coffee the day after so that they could get to know each other a bit more. The next day they met, and Cecile brought two of her friends along so that it wouldn’t look awkward. As soon as that they sat, the conversation began, and the subject was really intriguing in fact. They spoke about relationships, their types, the ones that they had, the ones they preferred, and the ones they wish for. Robert stood still and listened. You know what my friend, said Robert, it is a pleasure. I was a bit confused at first when I heard him say that, I thought that I was by somehow a bad company for him; but then he carried; to see that unique expression on a person’s face when they are telling their stories the way they see it fits most, and without making any judgment or trying to get any beneficial aspect from them or try to get something from them, and the best part is when you speak and you begin telling them things that their closest friends took them years to understand, as for their BOY/GIRL friends, well they just never did, other ways they would have been still with them… and you, a random unknown man who came up from nowhere, you are telling them their story as if you lived it with them. That particular smile my friend is where the greatness of the creator mainly proves itself. Suddenly her phone ranged, a big happy smile covered her face (so it seemed for the people around her), deep down me I knew that the smile in question was not that happy, it was just a socially marked expression to say that her so called beloved is calling, and so that she won’t have to explain to her friends why isn’t she happy with him; why? well it is quite easy, she has two contradictions that she’ll end up knowing the hard way, the first one, is that she isn’t unhappy about him but about herself, and the second one Is not a question of her can’t explaining to her friends what’s wrong because she doesn’t want to or because herself esteem prohibit her from doing so, but she doesn’t know what is wrong herself, so explaining to her friend could be a bit hard to do. She spoke with a flirting tone, the tone we hear in a movie when the sexy abs guy is speaking to his lovely and charming girlfriend to tell her he is coming so that the girl answers him with the same gracious sexy tone, the only difference here is that, the girl’s part is true as for the man’s well it is a bit questionable. So he came, kissed everyone but couldn’t sit near Cecile because he had to sit with his friends in another table nearby. Cecile agreed with a nice gentle smile and sat back, took a cigarette, took the lighter and lightened it up, and smokes it as if it was her last, but kept on lightening them one after one. Robert kept quiet and didn’t want to share any comments, the thought didn’t even leave his mind, and Cecile replies; Come on just say what you think! I know I know! “What do you want me to say?” says Robert, all I am going to say you is something you already know; you don’t need me to tell it to you, nor your friends… he doesn’t want you, he wants your body, he doesn’t care about you he cares about your body and he sure as hell isn’t good enough for you because he Is acting in the way you hate most in men; he is considering you as a toy, as soon as he is finished with you, he shall throw you away as did the one before him. It doesn’t necessarily mean that he is going to break up with you, no, hell no, but he will never give you what YOU want nor what YOU deserve. He will never make you sense your true worth. I know that you don’t mind to be a woman in his world, but you ask for a simple and rightful request in return; you just want be THE woman in it. Robert, has finished, took a glass of water and drunk it at once. Cecile smiled and gave him a look that combined recognition and embarrassment; recognition for making her femininity sensed again, and embarrassment for knowing that what she was doing was wrong and still, she did nothing to change it, instead she acted against everything she really believed in, against everything she trusted and against everything she really wanted. The question which everyone must be asking is why? What could be so great that prevent us from making the difference between what could cause our happiness and what could cause misery… well it is quite simple, when the absence of comprehension is flagrant, when the understanding of the other is absent and when sex is the main engine of the ship, it is often the same result; heartbreak, heartache… any adjective which starts with heart and has a negative meaning could be associated to the matter. A 21 year old singer said, “It was in the darkest of my days when you took my sorrow, you took my pain and buried them away, you buried away…” it is exactly what happened between Henry and the charming Cecil, a story with the beginning of an end, an end where she has began.
The next stop shall be upon the story of man who thought that he knew it all. A story of man who in proper times couldn’t tell when he should back off or when he should push forward and now all he has got has disappeared, lost, as a slight of ice thrown into a hot plate of metal: vanished. The tone that Robert had in his voice was quite different, something came up between Cecile and when he began telling me what happened, as if he had a certain care for this person that he hadn’t for any other. You know Emmanuel, says he, you are practically the first person to whom I am saying this, to whom I am sharing my life with, and one among the first that I am not trying to understand or to read. The name of our friend is Richard, a tall tanned young man… Words came out, expressions were expressed, emotions were revealed, but still, there was only one thing captivating my attention; Robert’s eyes. I have never seen such a contravention in someone’s eyes as I did with him. It was a combination of pain and joy, guilt and relief… I couldn’t really tell, all I knew that his words were coming from a place that have been on lockdown for a long time, a place where only a handful of people penetrate into; his heart. The trouble of this claimed man is something we have all went true, a feeling that many among us experienced, sensed and endured. In relationships we acquire experience, in our daily life we get to confront people and at work we learn and hear many things about other people, generally people you don’t know and within these issues you come across one that is often repeated than others; giving a too much to someone and getting nothing in return… In short this was Richards’s story. A man who gave what he had, and by this I don’t refer to money or to status, but something beyond this materiel world of ours, but to thin line which separates the real life from fantasy; emotions. Richard was a perfect man in God’s measures; he was tall and handsome, he was averagely rich and did what he could to help others beneath him, and above all he was very kind hearted. He was the kind of people to always say yes, especially with the ladies. “I remember one time we were in college, and he sat up a whole scene for Valentine’s Day to his best friend who dated his cousin at the time, and when I asked for the why, he answered: ‘I just want to put a smile upon her face’…” says Robert. As Robert describing me the scene, he’s eyes were glancing with joy. The joy of memories dear to his heart, the ones that no matter how much we describe, the description shall always be missing something; be it a detail, a moment or a square of a second that we missed to mention because to us, there are not enough words or expressions to contain and describe a true moment of happiness. Robert and Richard, beside the fact of having the same initials in their names had another point in common; they were good listeners. Nevertheless, listen require form the person to know you, to understand and you need time to do so. Time was not a problem for Robert but it was for Richard. It took him a while, and as time passed two facts were proven to him; the people she is going out with do not deserve her, and his love for her grew day after day. Oh yes, he was in love, a love that could be defined by some as passion, by others as delusion and by others even as a deception. Passion for knowing her as no one have ever did before, a knowledge that allowed him to decal her fake laugh when someone bothers her but she won’t say a thing because she is to sensitive, when a song in played on the radio and her whole body shivers because it takes her to the time where everything used to be nice and gentle, and when people used to appreciate the simplest pleasures of life such as a promenade on the boulevard; or a walk to the movies when the one you care for… things and moments that one’s feel and few are the ones who understand actually do get things that others do even bother to think about…Delusion? Well, when the sorrow of your soul is no more to handle, and when the women that you love need a shoulder to lay up upon, there no one but the man who sees the best in you who could cheer you up, console you and hug you as warmly as ever. Did he try hard enough? Yes; He tried his best but he didn’t succeed, you know sometime people only want to have fun, to have someone to chair the special things in life with; thus this is a wish that only few could understand, or fulfill. Across the campus, there was this big garden, with trees and roses covering the ground, a magnificent view that our soul and body get accustomed as if it was our birthplace, but in this case, it would be the birthplace of all of us. Richard often sits in front of this garden for limitless hours, playing music and with a pretty clumsy smile that lies upon his face during the whole time. When he was asked for the reason for which he had such a strange behavior frequently noticed, he didn’t reveal a thing, just responses to make people get off his back. Nevertheless, one person understood why such behavior was noticed, Robert. It was no question of rest as he claimed, neither a question of peace, but the set made him thing. I mean we all see a view that gives us chills and that eventually reminds us of moments, persons, memories… As for Richard, it was his recovery place from what he sees a refuge from the others, the only place where he can actually imagine and say; if only… If only I wasn’t who I am, If only things weren’t as they are, and if only I wasn’t able to see what others can’t. Have you ever get that feeling of knowing that what you are doing is wrong and not even time could change it? Well he had it, but in his case it was since the day he spoke with her…
Sometimes I wonder, is it wrong to have feelings? Is it desperate to seek love? What is it with people always hiding behind excuses to not doing what they want instead of searching for reasons why they ought to do what they want? Not what they have been told or what they have over heard; they have to get what they need, not what others want for them…
The last character of this short story is quite unique, at least to me. She is the reason behind my meeting with Robert, the reason for which I and Robert spoke for the first place. Her name is Lily, and that ladies and gentlemen shan’t be one of Robert’s stories, but mine, as a matter of fact, the only one. Don’t rush to conclusion quite yet; it is not one of the clichés stories where the narrator pulls his heart out to a girl that shall never be his; not because she is out of his league but simply because she is one the rarest persons for whom I could gladly make compromises for without remorse, for whom I could be myself no matter what that oneself might be and I could be judgmental; in other words a friend. Her name is Lily, 21 years old young women who is on the verge of finishing her undergraduates’ studies and only two months away from graduating. She is… well I could describe her, but… she is the kind of persons that no matter how hard you try to figure up, they always come up with a new way to show you how marvelous, sweet and caring they are. No words, statements nor books could be enough to describe the tenth of how I see her. I have called her many nicknames; sis, Mister, partner… it doesn’t matter since I adore her. Nevertheless, nature prevails; I did by somehow managed to fuck things up. I was, lost, insecure and uncertain of what I wanted, what I had or what I needed. All I knew that I was afraid, confused as it is the case of every individual once confronted to loneliness. So there I went, trying to fill in the blank with a random answer, a random choice, a random end. God gave me a gift, or as some may name, an art; the art of listening. It was what I did best, she told her stories, she recited and described me with a unique sparkle in her eyes the amount of happiness that the people around her provide her. Nevertheless, good girls never get to have what suits them best right away, but only after many heartbreaking, exhausting and tiring experiences. An everyday story that most of the girls have gone true, reason for which most of men have been pre marked with the “asshole” printed in every girl’s sight each time they meet one. The only difference is that she kept what she endured for herself, she did tell it to handful of people, but always she says the strict minimum, because the wound in the too deep to be reopened… They say women quality and manners are only tested and measured in time of pressure and stress and trust me I have seen, met and dealt with people in different situations; sadness, defeat, pain, joy, drunkenness… any situation that might accurse to you and rare are the persons who get to the lowest levels of loneliness and came back even more stronger, few are those who have been hurt like no one did but still had the heart or at least what was left of it to forgive and few are the ones who prefer be hated by their loved ones than let them do something that they will regret afterwards. Qualities that could only be granted to someone special, someone that I had enough luck to meet and embrace with all the love and care in the world.
So this is my story, the story of an anonymous man who wanted to made a difference in some peoples life, because deep inside me I believe that no one deserve to be lonely or to live miserably, without a shoulder to turn into in time of pain, without a smile to comfort the meanness of this world when it just gets too much to handle by your own… Everyone deserves this may you be poor or rich, smart or dumb, fat or thin, it doesn’t matter as long is there a heart beating in your chest, happiness should always be in harmony with who you are, not who you are asked to be, but who you are.