Dear Jay

March 7, 2017
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Dear Jay,

As i’m writing this I realize that these past few months have been the happiest months of my entire life. I’ve found the one I’ve always dreamed of. I never believed in love at first sight, but for as long as I live, I’ll never forget the day that you turned the corner of the theater building gates, and I saw the person I wanted to spend the rest of my life with.

I remember seeing you turn the corner, with Stater Brothers bag in your hand, you know before they had you pay ten cents per bag, as did Elijah. I had my ukulele in my hand, strumming on the ivory colored strings perfectly strung across a mahogany neck, with a tribal sun pattern carved around the hole in the middle of the ukulele. I was playing, “Can’t Help Falling in Love With You,” by none other than Elvis, The King, himself. Ironic, isn’t it? I saw you look right at me with your hazel green eyes illuminating in the November afternoon sun. Your golden hair was split perfectly, framing every perfect feature of your face: your intense eyes, smiling lips, a perfectly arched nose and sharp jawline that gave you near adult features.

You appeared to be a tall, broad, strong young man with no worries in the world; just a guy and his best friend coming back from a local market with junk food in your hands; Sourcream & Onion and BBQ lays chips with both a two liter root beer and a two liter Hawaiian punch, not to forget the oreos-double stuffed. You were laughing along with Elijah, happy, handsome, and sweet looking; I thought that no one in this entire universe could even compare to your gracious presence. I was at the lowest point in my life at the time, and when your eyes met mine from just meters a way, I could’ve sworn and prayed to God that he had sent me down an angel.

You Sat down next to me and we said hello. I shivered at the sound of your booming voice, so deep the mountains crumbled and stars fell loose making new shooting stars for more wishes to be made. You were a gift given by God.

I softly asked Elijah for some snacks, I hadn’t eaten all day; sure junk food wasn’t the best thing for my “first meal of the day,” but I was desperate. Elijah refused, and you stepped in with a kind heart happily giving me some ships and Hawaiian Punch, and even letting me sneak a few oreos on the side.

Time had passed.

The three of us sat together, I on your left, Elijah on your right. We ended up listening to an hour long, fully detailed with explicit attention to detail story of how your whole day went, starting from how your day started and how it was going to end. I didn’t want to stop listening, I just wanted to hear your voice forever.

Time had passed.

I noticed you had found me over snapchat and began texting me, asking how my day was and asking how I’ve personally been. It was surely obvious your feelings for me were growing strong, no matter how hard you tried to hide it. And believe me, you tried. It was adorable. Your soft cheeks would grow a bright red and your pupils became large and wide when we would meet, or if we accidentally touched. After a while, I couldn’t hide it, I was in love with you too. I always told myself that people our age don’t know what love is, it’s just an infatuation; it was the Romeo and Juliette affect. But I pushed that thought away and smiled everyday you would come and sit right next to me at our faded red, food stained, broken benched lunch table.

Time had passed.

And I confessed. I told you that I wanted to be with you, that I liked you, and that you made me the happiest I’ve been in a long while. Your eyes grew wide much like a child receiving their first puppy. That night, we kept flirting and teasing with, “So, I heard you like me.”

Time had passed.

December 6, 2017. The day of the school's winter concert. You waited anxiously to ask for my father’s permission. Something almost every boy never does anymore because it’s something no one ever thinks of anymore. On our way to the theater, to get ready for the show, you were practicing the words you would say to him over and over and over again, so many times that I know it by heart now. After stuttering so many times, I stopped your movement with a kiss on your cheek. You stopped, turned a bright red, and stuttered more looking for the right words to say.

Time had passed.

The concert was over, and a success; adoring family cheered and hollered as us all. You seemed sick to the stomach once I walked backstage to see you waiting for me. I hugged you and felt your heart pumping. I didn’t know that such a brave boy as yourself would ever be scared. We left, with me ready to go home. You needed a ride and a ride we gave. The moment you met my parents, you stopped your hello’s and kept quiet the entire time. You didn’t ask what you had promised to all day. I remember asking myself in the car, “Maybe he isn’t committed? Or he was lying? Or just scared??” I was upset the whole night, and knew I’d awake the next morning to apologies. Of course I accepted them, my father although humble was a man of stone when it came to one of his three girls and her safety.

Time had passed.

School was over, and it was late after school. It was around five o’clock. . My dad was patiently waiting in my soon to be ruby red 2009 Ford Focus. You walked me to my car, knocked on his window, and cleared your throat.
“I have a question about your daughter,” you said in a heavy breath, gulping and taking a new breath in after, “ I adore your daughter. She’s made me the happiest I could ever be. My life isn’t that great, but when I’m with her, she makes it all go away. So, I would like to ask for your permission to date your daughter, to love her, and care for her, and make her feel like the whole world revolves around her, because in my eyes, it does.” I saw my dad pop his head out of the tinted window and chuckle. He shook your hand, said yes, and I could feel all the pressure on your shoulders lift through a swift heavy breath. As you walked away, my dad asked if you needed a ride. So much was going through your mind you hadn’t noticed it, but you needed one. And so, we gave you one.
Time had passed.

The next day, you held my hands and kept them warm in yours. We walked over to my chemistry class, and I could tell a real relationship was new to you. Before the bell had rung, you came in for a hug. That’s when I snuck a single peck on your lips. Your face turned the same cherry red it had the day before. You smiled and cheered that I was your first kiss. I was proud that I was.

And ever since then, I’ve loved you more than anything. More than my art, more than my looks or my self consciousness. And it’s all you fault for it was you who turned the corner of the theater building gates. And. I mean that in the sweetest of ways. You started calling me names that did nothing but lift me up, and out of many, I enjoy signing with “Your World.” Now because of you, I am dedicated to every day I spend with you, and for whatever time any of us have in his world, it’ll all be worth being yours.


Your World.

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