Hello There, Mind if I Stare

I know that I am too bare.

I waited for you everyday, like the first time I saw you walking to first period.

I waited with thoughts of you and that first time, the morning sun no where to be seen in the sky’s meridian.

I waited again and again, I waited every morning.

I waited even when it seemed like it’d start pouring.

The sky’s pouring wasn’t one of my concerns.

The gossip amidst our peers took control. Their faces full of disapproving stern.

Ninth, tenth, eleventh, seniors.

They all sat and judged from the bleachers.

Every morning that I waited.

Every lunch break. Every urge to feel elated.

Every time I knew you’d be walking by.

Every time I knew there wouldn’t be another passerby.

Then you walk, walk fast and graceful.

With wardrobe that was in your own right tasteful.

A young man no taller than 5’8.

A young man who always bathed.

Scent of shampoo and deodorant-scented body-wash explored through my nostrils.

I explored your body every time I looked at your intercostals.

Every look made we wonder, why couldn’t it be so much more?

I thought that even from the first “hello.” I was so worried you would think I was a bore.

I thought of it myself, “What was his first impression?”

Was it the same degree of sexual tension?

He was barely taller than me, but so very built.

I was so small that I could be broken through a little tilt.

He was muscular underneath his baggy, hipster clothes.

I was flabby through my t-shirts and every other garment that I loathed.

I loathed lacking a similar style.

Lacking his timeless grace, his essence and presence which made me feel like I was on trial.

Trial when they looked.

At only sixteen, seventeen, and eighteen years of age, they knew what I was and so I was booked.

By their judgement. It produced in me a terror.

Something that made me feel even barer.

The truth behind my every stare.

They all collectively glared.

Was it so wrong? Why wasn’t I allowed to care?

To be in love, with a man who saw nothing in me. And yet I still dared.

A man of eighteen.

I was only sixteen.

He was only bit taller, a little less stranger, a lot more tamer.

Nevertheless, he was an equal player.

Player of the same game.

He just hid it better. But I saw it every time he thought his guy friends were at bay.

Every time they sat down after a game of lunch football, sweaty and heated, every time they smiled and put their arms around him after a game well-played.

I could tell how they made him feel, a fish waiting to get filleted.

Filleted by the truth escaping his every stare at them, sweaty and heated.

Their arms around him, their images inside of him. Images deep and seeded.

Just like his image lived inside of me.

Two fishes in a pond of judgement. But he battled against the tide of who we were meant to be.

He was one of the “bros” despite his artsy streak.

He was well-liked and always hanging out with them near that popular creek.

He was one of them in disguise.

I watched him as if awaiting my demise.

A demise that would come the moment one of them knew for certain.

The moment I was forced out of my imaginary curtain.

The moment of truth.

The moment we revealed our same ruse.

But he would never admit to it.

He was adept at hiding. His buddies, peers, and teachers—ninth, tenth, eleventh, and seniors—they never questioned his well-orchestrated skit.

I gave myself away by simply waiting for him to sit.

Sit next to me for a few minutes every morning, hello and small talk, an occasionally pat on the back. An unspoken goodbye given by the fading scent of his shampooed body. The deodorant that remained for a little after. That was it.

It didn’t matter. That was enough to make my day. If I could say what I wanted to say. Maybe one day.

If only he could stay. There wasn’t a price I was allowed to pay.

So instead I watched him go. Go and play his part.

As I played mine, as we remained apart.

Thinking to myself as he walked away, “Hello there, mind if I stare?”

I said this to myself, with nothing more to bare.

If only he knew, maybe he would have cared.