I never thought I could confide in someone I thought was an ignorant loser who wanted to grow up too fast. I forgot what my dad taught me about judging people quickly. I swear I knew my cousin was going through some deep stuff. Which is why I talked to him. Then he talked to me. And we talked till midnight. We talked about how we used to cope with our sadness; how music and writing seems to be our only salvation. I regret not talking about it sooner. He’s young but hell, we are both young.
We have so much to experience. We talked about life, what we enjoy doing daily and our dreams. Our favorite songs and the lyrics that touched us the most. I showed him my journal and all my writing. And this journal. Oh wait, but I forgot to tell you how I approached him first. I wrote him a letter. Obviously, because I’m damn good at writing letters. I wrote to him how I noticed he was off and how he should go out and enjoy things more. I told him about my self-harm and how I acted just like that when I was going through it. I gave it to him before we said our goodbyes.
I started packing because I had to leave to Florida the next day. A couple of minutes later, I hear a soft knock on the window. There he is, asking me if we could talk. We sat outside, under the stars and the fresh breeze. There was a silence; we both wanted the other to talk first. He spoke. My grandma was surprised he came out of his house (he lives next door to my grandma). He showed me a picture. And that’s how we pour our hearts out and he trusted me with things he said he didn’t want to tell anyone. I did the same. A friendship blossomed. I never thought it could be him, that we would be sitting outside talking about how we don’t like to trust anyone and how much we write.
The funny thing about life is that you have to expect the unexpected. You’ll find out things from people you thought they were okay. I think that’s why there’s trust. So you know. I am making no sense because there’s so much I would love to talk about. I had so much fun in Puerto Rico. I visited my English teacher Tyrone at his school. I was the student who was supposed to be an example of how life can work out for you when you give your all to learn something. In this case, English. He got teared up, we exchanged numbers and he gave me a book that I used to read in his class in fifth grade. I took pictures and pictures and pictures of my family and flowers and candy and everything! I think this was a very good trip. Hell, good can’t even describe how much I enjoyed it.
Fix you by Coldplay