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Author's note: I hope to share my experiences with the readers through this second novel, to establish a deep connection bound with memories and/or current experiences in life that relate to my own.
I lean back and close my eyes when there is nothing else to focus on, when I don't have to push you to the back of my mind. I rewind the hands of time, restring the beads of the infinite circlet, the emblem of my heart, the token of my memories of you. All I can think about throughout the day and night is your voice. All I can feel is my own giddy excitement. All I can taste is the cool breeze that bares the slightest hint of summer's end. All I can say is,
"How perfect was that first night?"
All I can recall is the feel of your hands gripping my shoulders in a firm but gentle grasp as you steered me in the right dirrection, my hair fluttering in the wind as I stood on the scooter. All I want to do is talk to you. All I want to know is: What did you feel, or did you feel anything at all? All I have to hang on to is the day when I met you, and this is what I will continue to do
unless there comes to be something else.
It is quite a bit that I ignite the flame of the instant connection between you and I, recreate the memory and piece together the puzzle of that blessed golden Saturday. My dreams are not much more than fantasies: bits of memories, fragments of hope, doubtful and uncertain reflection. What frequently continues to send me tumbling into pleasant recollection is the way so many of these jumbled fragments can come together into a significantly perfect picture that rekindles my love. What leaves me breathless is the sense of reality in these dreams. The effects are long-lasting, and I wake up with the same fluttering and racing heartbeat. The same desire and affection creep into my mind and course through me with a driving force, and the same heated blush burns my cheeks with a radiant fire so blinding it would light up the world.
They say dreams are nothing but pictures in your head,
but that first day was not, has never been, nor will it ever be a dream. That festive September day and clear breezy autumn night is what I can hold onto, simply, because I know it was real, and in that moment, nothing else mattered but you.
The same disheartening boredom drifted through my mind as I paced the lot from one side to the other with my occasionally idling cellphone at my ear and nervous eyes on my back as I maneuvered the best I could without my white cane to guide me. After sitting for so long, I found that a nice stretch would release the cramped tension in my stiff muscles and give me an alternatative to twiddling my thumbs. Having ended my last call, I tilted my head to the sky and inhaled the comfortable night air deeply, allowing my blow-dried dark brown hair to stream and stray, tossed in every dirrection.
"Are you bored?"
By the blank expression upon my face, there was no doubt that my aunt knew exactly how I felt, there was no doubt that everyone did.
"Yes." I replied with as much expression in my voice as there was on my face.
"Would you like to go for a walk with your cousin?"
No sooner than my tentative response was received was my left hand wrapped around the back of the birthday girl's forearm as she led me around the block. A sense of anxiety washed over me as the passing cars seemed to slow when they neared us. My stomach turned to knots, and I gripped her arm just a little tighter. The sweet essence of fried Chinese food eminated from the small storefront and open door of Hong Kong City as we passed. Time and time again I confessed my unease. This lasted only until I heard your voice.
It became routine that we passed the house each time we rounded the last courner and started again. This time was different.
My cousin spotted you and casually asked,
"You wanna come?"
My aunt approved. It was almost immedietly that I let my guard down. With you by our side, what could happen?
The three of us walked in a row discussing interests, sharing life experiences, and taking turns asking and clarifying silent questions. There came a point in time when I let myself enjoy every sweet moment, I let my mind linger and ponder the words you had spoken. Their came a point that night when I realized how I felt about you. The way you did not hesitate to offer me your arm as my cousin pushed her little sister's baby carriage silently, a few paces ahead as the weels turned and scraped the dirty pavement.
In that moment, it was only you and I sharing our thoughts, advice, and feelings with one another about the past. Talking of bullies and school, of shared convictions, of acceptance and of honesty. While I listened intently, I couldn't help but smile. Smile, because this impromptu rendezvous was just the beginning.
Little by little, I began to notice every quality I had always dreamed of: sense of humor, maturity, mentality, personality. We could go from conversing about the pros and cons of a beloved cartoon that has changed over time (Spongebob,) or singing patriotic anthems with absolutely no motive, to the loss of a loved one: be completely humorous at one point, then completely serious and sharing our deepest feelings on an intellectual level of intelligence that most people our age do not have or choose no't to have.
Many people might say you were just telling me what I wanted to hear, but I believe there was something more in those words, something true in that thought process.
As we strode then ran down the sidewalk, I was free.
My heart was soaring high, and nothing could shoot it down. Nothing could kill my high spirits, nothing could tear away my happiness. That night was incredibly flawless in every way, even though my tooth hit a sign-bearing pole, and even if I fell off the scooter and got back up again. All of the flaws gave that night its perfection in my eyes.
My sight has always been irrelevant in my life. It has always been a part of me, and I have never and will never let it get in my way. So what if my eyes don't work? I have ears that can listen, nostrils that can smell and flare, vocal chords that can move to create words and sounds, and hands with which to feel and identify.
Although this is true for me, many people see it as a handicap. Many people do not get the consept that I am a perfectly capable human being and no one is superior to me due to the fact that their eyes work and mine simply do not. You were different.
I poured my heart out about it, told you to ask any questions you had. You did, and you excepted me and understood me.
You asked about my white cane, and I explained what it is used for: to find obstacles when I am walking so that I can avoid them by sweeping it in a wide arc.
Both you and my cousin set me loose to demonstrate. Each time I came close to running into a door or hitting my head on a metal barrier, my ears rang with the unison repetition. "watch out!"
I would always respond with a bursting laugh of reassurance.
"If you want me to use my cane, I have to find things myself. I am not gona die you guys, its okay."
Neither of you were comfortable with me walking solo, so I took your arm once more wearing a smile of amusement upon my face.
Long after midnight, I lay gathering my thoughts and making my decision. I knew from the second you handed me that cup of PepC, it was meant to be, at least for me.
Every moment that passes between us is radiant. It all goes back to that first day.
January 26, 2011. I had finally mustered the courage to call my aunt and ask her to invite you to my Birthday party after much indicision and support from Ms. Lol.
Wednesday February 23rd, 2011. the middle of February vacation week at my cousins' house, confusion summed up most of my feelings. I had heard many things about you, mostly forming a negative reputation. It was then that I decided not to pay any attention. It was then that I decided to hear it from you instead of finding it out and deciding based upon everyone else's convictions and opinions.
April 22nd, 2011. Easter Sunday. A perfect fit: a purple dress over black tights and 3-inch heels. My Ipod Shuffle idle in my palm as I allowed you into my mind while Just The Way You Are by Bruno Mars played on.
You stepped into the living room. My hands shook with adrenaline, and my head ached and spun. My cheeks burned as I held my breath before you walked away after a mini semi-awkward conversation cut short, because all of those winter days frolicking in the snow with you just a short distance away, you knew how I felt about you. It came natrually when I had not known, but it made it that much harder to focus and act like myself once I realized my true feelings.
Every single second of this long chain of events sends my mind reeling with questions and no answers. Answers that should one day come from you. Nonetheless, had it not been for that first day, it wouldn't've been the same. I wouldn't know you the way I do.
Returning to these places in my mind, I can't do much but hope you are the person I see in you. Your laugh is like a ray of sunshine. Your words are the stars in the golden clear night sky. You mean so much to me that if you didn't feel the same way it would be somewhat of a heartbreak, and I don't know what to think. Do you like me? Do you not like me? Why would you come see me when I go over my cousins' house if you didn't feel something? Why would you ask about me if nothing was there? No one thinks we will make it, or even start it for that matter. No one thinks you're the type of boy who'd like a girl like me. To be completely honest, I'm not so sure what you feel, never mind dealing with my own feelings and not knowing when I'll see you again. You have no idea how the thought of you transforms a gloomy day into a cloudless night or a veil of tears into a halo of smiles. ----------17 You are my first love and this will never change, this I can never forget. ----------18 Epilogue I'm broken, gone, lost to the world, And the wind howls an ominous scream. My sobs are irrecognizable. I'd like to think this isn't happening, that I am in a dream. Do you know what it's like to feel so alone? Do you know what it's like to feel so hurt by the world and everyone in it and not know why? But when it stops, when there are no more tears, I take deep breaths, wishing you were here. Wishing with all my heart and soul, that you would feel the way I do. You cheer me up when I am down. You give me strength when I have none. You give me a boost of faith when I need to believe in something. You pop into my mind when I need you the most, and Even if you are not really here by my side, they still count: the memories I have. I can only hope that one day you will notice it too, and truly feel the way I do. ----------20 Dedication This book is dedicated to my secret first love Jerry Jacques (Jay Nerdy) for giving me something to hold onto that is real and true, and for letting me know I can believe in you, and maybe one day, you'll believe in me too. I can't forget Ms. Lol (Ms. Ganz) for encouraging me to ask Jerry to my birthday party. I'm not sure if I would have ever asked for fear of rejection, but she gave me the support and positive reinforcement that was needed to finalize my decision. ----------21 About The Author Precious Noemi P. is a visually impaired girl from Chelsea, Massachusetts with a passion for singing and writing, she is a published author. Born in Boston, Massachusetts, she has faced difficult encounters with people who do not understand the term "blind." Precious always says: "It's not blindness, it's a blessing, and its part of who I am, God made me this way for a reason." She refuses to let her visual impairment get in the way of anything. She can do everything everyone else can do, and does not take "No" for an answer or let anyone tell her otherwise.
Schuylkill Haven, Pennsylvania
Cherry Hill, New Jersey
WOODLAND HILLS, California
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