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Monday, April 14, 2008

Dear Charlie,

I have some good news. I do feel better. The cold is not as strangling, my body will open up again.

Last week Allen remarked on how the days were getting longer and the skirts were getting shorter. Although I have seen some women show bare legs during winter, spring does seem to make everyone want to run around wearing nothing but sunglasses and a smile. Do you think most of us do it to attract an eye or to feel free? I don’t think it can go both ways.

I for one have been enjoying the light cotton clothes, hanging from my shoulders and hips, not much to attract anyone in particular. Well, I didn’t think it was.

I remember the first time I sat down with Frank. Sitting on the front porch, we talked about the war, the games and the great outdoors. Looking away from me as he was saying “The thing about war is that once it starts, nobody can really stop it.” I watched his lips moving and the empty space between them. The conversation kept coming around to how unbelievable it was that we were both there, at that moment.

Later, after a walk, we arrived at his place. I put down my bag and took in a deep breath, like I do every time I visit a new house. I could smell lavender and burnt sage. I carefully took a few steps forward, looking at the tall paintings that were resting against the living room wall. “They’re not mine.” He quickly added to my stare. He sat down on the carpet and I stretched out on my stomach in front of him. In a few minutes he was playing his guitar. I don’t recall what the song was, but it was nice to hear a voice like that.

When we went in the front room, we sat close to each other on the very uncomfortable leather couch. His hand rested against mine for a few seconds before he crossed his fingers with mine. I turned toward him, wanting to tell him something but the way he looked back at me, nervous yet determined, made me stare back silently. I was looking at the light on his cheek when I asked myself how long we had been sitting there, with nothing to say.

Then it occurred to me, and I realised and I believed that he thought I was beautiful. There are these short moments of clarity when you can see a person as a person and nothing else. Those moments get shorter as we grow older. They get crushed between opinions, judgements and great expectations. How many times does beauty change in our lifetime Charlie?

I remember the first time our gazes crossed, do you?

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posted by Primessa Espiritu
10:31 pm

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