Bliss & Hate

Reminiscing can be either be happy or painful. In this case a painful but unbearable. BTW I wrote this shortly after taking after my niece to the park.

When I first met him I knew right away that I didn't like him. We were young, about seven or six and we had met at the park. His grandmother was my uncles new wife making him my step nephew I guess. I was never really clear on just what role he was suppose to play. But anyways, I didn't like him. He was an arrogant little twit who deigned on amusing himself with petty and immature insults and watching these insults take their affect on me.

 

"You know what you are? A fat midget!" He had cackled. When I was six I was smaller than most my age but although I was a little chubby I was definitely not fat which is why that insult left me crying all the way to my house and left him a week without cable. 

From that day on he would continue to bring tears to my eyes. Our families made a decision that day, a decision to try to get us to be friends...or at least civil to each other. But for years I couldn't stand him. I couldn't stand how everything would go his way or how he would win every game we would play or how our families especially mine liked him so much. I admit I was pretty jealous. But even so what I hated the most about him was how he had this gift I guess is a good word for it, a gift in which he could make everything go away. It isn't a secret that I had a very troubled childhood, one that caused many restless nights. When he would live next door to me he would hear me crying in my room since our houses where so close together and he would always come over late at night. He wouldn't ask if I was okay, he wouldn't even take notice of my tears instead he would bring over his marbles or video games and ask me to play with him. Well dare me since he was a champ at everything he played. AT the time I didn't realize just what he was doing, I didn't realize he was trying to distract me from the horrors of my life.  He was very good at this. Why did I hate it? Because this gift of his transformed him from someone I couldn't stand into someone I desperately needed.

My need for him was as complicated as making a banana milkshake. He made it all better, when he was close the demons would hide and I would feel safe. Simple as that. I suppose he began to realize I wasn't a midget spawn from hell  because he began acting differently also. The summer before my freshman year in High School my grandpa had gotten sick and had to stay in the hospital over night, not wanting to be alone I went over to his house in the middle of the night. I figured he would try to distract me somehow as he usually did but this time it was different. For one thing he allowed me to ruin his new shirt, soaking it with so much salt water I felt bad afterwards. He held me all through the night, whispering me that it would all be okay and if not I could smack him silly. He was right about things being okay since my grandpa did get better and came home from the hospital not two days after. But that didn't mean everything was going to remain okay in my life. 

Our relationship began getting weird when I started High School. I remember very clearly the day I went over to his house to talk about how great high school was. He laughed when I told him the food still tasted s****y. Being the guy that he was of course asked if the girls where hot I responded "How should I know I don't check out girls," We laughed at this for a good long while. But when I mentioned guys the aura suddenly changed in the room. 

"You can't have a boyfriend," He had said with a mocking laugh I knew too well. 

"Says who?" I had snapped.

He stopped laughing and looked me straight in the eye when he said. "Me." 

At the time I ignorantly thought he said this because he figured I was to bad looking to get a boyfriend or something. Though I admit that incident stayed in my head for a good long while. The following year he started high school and I was a soft more. We were the same age only days apart but due to his crappy performance in third grade he had to repeat it leaving me a year ahead of him. Something I always loved to point out. That year was when I turned 15 and if you don't already know turning 15 for an Hispanic means a lot. Unfortunately  I did not get the quinceanera I so desperately wanted due to financial problems. The following day however he threw me a private celebration one with only involved us. He had bought me a large Big Mac combo and we had a Fast and Furious marathon. By the time the movies where over and our stomachs where fat with McDonald's I realized something had shifted in the air. He gave me my first kiss that night, a kiss that lingered a million years but only lasted a few minutes. For the rest of that night he held me close, and I honestly had never been so happy. 

We did not become a couple nor did we announce this to everyone. In fact we never brought it up. But we did however light the match we had created. I gave myself to him in every way possible. The boy I hated then liked then considered close to my heart had become the guy who owned it. If only fear did not prevent me from telling him how i felt. If only courage had taken the best of me. But this did not happen. We began to drift at some point in the beginning of my junior year. By the end of that year I knew I had lost something I could never get back. He moved away that year, moved away into a new chapter in his life. A chapter in which I was not included. It wasn't long before my uncle had informed me that he had a girlfriend. She was everything I was not. A tall confident beauty who knew it all and had probably done it all. Someone he was proud to call his. Later that year I got the news from Facebook of all places that his girlfriend was pregnant. I did not cry nor did I throw a tantrum. In simple words I felt numb. I went to school that day and I went along as if everything was fine, I put on a mask I was already good at putting on. A mask that is still on to this day. 

It's been years since I have seen him or talked to him and maybe that's for the best. He was my entire world at one point, seeing him again would most definitely break something inside of me. In many ways he left me stronger than when he was here since it takes a pretty strong person to smile and laugh even though the love of my life is no longer apart of it and will never be again. 

What I want is simple. I don't want him to come back to me and declare his love for me as many seem to think. What I truly, desperately want is for that day 13 years ago at the park to have never have happened. If there is a day I could erase permanently from my life, it would be that day.