A Bittersweet Description of Someone I Knew.

      When I first heard of this assignment, his memory pierced through my mind like a violent arrow in the darkness of my mind, heading straight for the target; puncturing it aggressively, tyrannically, evilly; right in the bulls-eye of my pride. Naturally, I immediately went into a defensive or denial state of mind. Now that I could not delay it any longer, I took a deep breath and began writing. The words that come into my mind and that I instruct my fingers to write, still cause an effect on me; a feeling I rather not harbor again; but there is really no one I would want to write about, but him.
     More than I'd like to admit, I've been dependent on someone else's wisdom and company so I could feel safe and stable. If I could find one metaphor to explain how my life has been, I would picture something from the top of my head, randomly, and say it would be like a Greek temple that is barely sustained by one pillar, which is keeping the roof from falling over preventing it from breaking into millions of pieces if it was to crash on the floor. However, even though the most important people in my life have subtly come and chaotically gone, I've been quite lucky, since I realize that up until now, I've never been alone per-sé: there has always been someone who has taken over the place of that person who left.

     The man who I want to talk about had a huge impact on my life; for both good and bad, he became my most trusted and loved friend and pillar, and I madly hung on to him: his wisdom, his maturity, his cleverness, his “badassness”... I could go on and on, so, using a small amount of words, I adored his whole self. And after all this time even though I've overcome my denial over his unexpected departure, my eyes begin to water as I write these words by the mere thought of his name; and if my thoughts could be heard, the voice that speaks would surely break in the same way he broke my heart. It was the first time I loved someone for who they really were. It's funny... I don't even remember his real name anymore, maybe it's a self defense mechanism, maybe I have really forgotten it, but I will always remember the nickname I would call him by: "Tío Lechuga"; and he would lovingly joke back with me and call me his “Sobrina Manzana”. He lived in Venezuela and was 21 years old, if my memory still serves me right. I can only come up with a vague description of his physical appearance, since I only saw him once. He was very weary of showing how he looked like. He was a tall person, chubby, huggable. He had light colored hair, and had quite a bald spot. He hated it, even though the mere thought of it makes me smile albeit faintly. He was also Caucasian; I think his eyes were dark and he had a prominent chin. I would say he had small eyes and an icy stare, maybe even dark, somewhat evil, but then again I may be biased on how things turned out. The sound of his voice makes my heart freeze in anger now, but before it made me feel like a vocal, ethereal hug; it soothed me. I can't help but notice that adorable subtle little sigh of air that he spoke in between his s's when I listen to his recorded messages in his lovely accent.

      I remember how jealous I felt when he talked about my best friend. I remember hating both of them though I really didn't: I hated the fact that I lost before it even began. In those days, I was tagged in a meme1 to describe some friends, including himself. He was the hardest to describe because he was a mixture of good and evil; extremely cunning, an excellent manipulator yet noble, loving and caring. He would know what to tell to everyone to achieve his own purposes; he had a strong presence that could be felt even if our communication was strictly between computers. His love interest was once caught in a bad situation were, because of a mistake she made, had the worst reputation and and was severely criticized; the person she loved at the time decided to not forgive her. He manipulated the circumstances in order that her love interest at the time returned and decided to give her another chance despite the facts that he loved her and wanted her to be with him and no one else. That captured me in such a way, that it made me look up to him and admire him even more. That was the moment that made me admit to myself that I felt for him more that just friends. I knew it was going to be hard, but I decided to stick by his side; I valued his friendship over any other thing in the world.

      However, our friendship wouldn't last as much as I would have liked. It was a bitter ending, left with unanswered questions and unvoiced thoughts. I don't know what I would say or do if I have to face him again, even if it's virtually. There is an intense ambivalence stirring up inside, and my conscience is trying to smooth out any emotional outbursts, though clearly is losing ground. I haven't met anyone else quite like him: so cunning, so righteously evil, noble, sweet and kind. Up to this day, his wisdom is still remembered as a legend in my memory; and the way he always defended his ideals left an indelible garnish, like if it was made with a burning iron, on myself. However, up until now, I would not change anything. Why? Well, because I may not like how things end, I may even hate the way they turned out, but, then again, thanks to this, I learned many things: like who he really was and who I thought he was, who I was and who I thought I was, that emotion knows no boundaries, and that definitely, I rather be hurt with the truth and not be lead on with a sweet lie.

1 A phrase used to describe a catchphrase or concept that spreads quickly from person to person via the Internet.

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Copyright © 2010, MadderSky.