Silver Lining

Now elderly, suffering from lung cancer and Alzheimer's, he remembers his first and only love.

I’m writing this as I lay on my bed, waiting for my Chemotherapy.

I can remember her, so vividly. Her smile, her voice, the way she spoke, the way she was hurt but kept fighting through it. The way she stopped me from doing what I used to do, the way she made me realize that there is beauty in this world, that there is love, that there is a silver lining.

Let me start off by saying, she was one of those girls where the last thing you would think about was leaving her or just having sex with her. She was beautiful and perfect, not just on the outside but in the inside as well. I know that's a cheesy thing to say but she was more than just a female, because she had a view on politics, religion and today’s society. She had the most perfect taste in music as she listened to Leonard Cohen and The Smiths, occasionally, John Cale. Yes, she was one of those nostalgist girls that prefered old over new, because she believed old had more meaning than new. She was that kind of girl that would just look at you or hug you, time would stop for a second and from that moment on, you knew everything was going to be okay, you were going to be alright. She was the kind of girl that would stop all the anger and the pain. She was that kind of girl that would forever hold a place in your heart. Her name, was Sandy.

I remember the first day I met her. I was invited to a party at a Salon called “The Sombrero” for a Quincenera. I was sitting down and I saw her dancing. She danced two stepped, two bounces on the right foot and then switched to her left as she danced to “Pintame” by Elvis Crespo. Her brunette hair bounced from side to side with every bounce. She wore a tight white dress that ended just before her knee. She looked amazing from the outside. Her friend said something to her and she turned around and looked right at me. I felt embarrassed as she came up to me and asked me if I wanted to dance with her. I said no and came up with a bogus excuse of how my legs hurt from weight lifting. She didn’t take no for an answer as she grabbed my hand and dragged me to the dance floor, truth is, I never knew how to dance. But in this moment, with her, it came to me as if I was meant for it. I began swaying my hips and shaking my body to the rhythm of “Intentalo”. We never left the dance floor until it came time for us to leave. We sat at a table near the exit as she called her parents who were on their way here to pick her up. I had severe issues before I met her. I lifted up my sleeves on my button up blue shirt and she noticed my scars. She didn’t say anything about it, she just told me, “I know you’re hurt. I can see it in your eyes, I understand.” She gently touched my wrist with scars and gave me a kiss on the cheek, then gave me a long, tight hug. From that moment on, that little gesture of non-judgmentalness made me feel safe, made me feel listened to, made me feel like I was finally going to be okay. She grabbed my phone and I didn’t mind, she took a picture and typed for a few seconds. She then gave me back my phone and told me she was leaving because her parents were outside, so I escorted her outside and gave her a hug as she left telling me to “check my phone”. So, I did. There she was, three separate pictures of her, one as my lock screen, one as my home screen and I received a text from a contact named “Sandy”, which also had another picture of her in her contact information. I texted her that whole night, eventually getting a call from her midnight. We talked about what school we went to, what grade we were in, what city we’re from, etc. I realized, I never really knew anything about her, except for her name but I was madly in love with her. Turns out, she lives a couple cities over and she’s actually one year older than me, and she was ranked second in her class. Impressive, right? Better than the average girl, I thought, dumbing themselves down, making themselves small only to try and look “cute”. The last thing, before we both fell asleep on the phone together, I can remember her so vividly and explicitly singing “Suzanne” by Leonard Cohen, in a half asleep voice, soft as can be, as I looked at the clock, 5 AM.

This went on for several months, we only met once more at a local Barnes and Noble to drink coffee and talk about current books. We talked about how a few books were completely overrated and how John Green emphasizes the theme of loneliness and how his endings have to deal with everything not going as you planned it out to be but there’s always a silver lining. Our own interpretation, of course. Paper Towns, for example, she said, ends with Margo not being with Quentin, but Quentin still finding a way to cope with that loss and feel as if, what was taken from him was just as good as it was from the time it was given to him. I think this was her first hint. I think that statement was a hint that things wouldn’t turn out the ways I dreamt it would be or even the way I felt it would be. These little hints I saw throughout the course of a few months. She took her time replying, she took her time to talk to me, and I knew it was going to happen, but she just left. Without a text or a trace, nothing was said, she just left out of the blue. I tried so hard finding her, but nothing. I wasn’t going to go to the next town over looking for her like a madman, because if she felt the same way as I felt for her, she wouldn’t have done what she did. This is exactly when loneliness hit. Days passed of checking my phone, looking for a response, her response and it wasn’t there. This is when I knew things weren’t always what they seemed to be. Just like Margo and Quentin from Paper Towns, just like Inman and Ada from Cold Mountain. Loneliness hit hard as the realization came, there was never a perfect girl, there was never a perfect and lovey dovey ending where the two lovers ride into the sunset. Just as Quentin, I felt as if, what was taken from me was just as good as it was from the time it was given to me.

After, I suffered from depression and spent most of my time locked up in my room. I remember peering outside of the window and seeing her, several times, outside, waving at me, telling me to come down and talk to her. Sometimes, I can see her drinking coffee and discussing books, the way we used to, but with someone else. Sometimes, I can still hear the music that we both danced to the night I met her. Sometimes, I can hear her so perfectly, just singing Leonard Cohen songs in a perfect half asleep voice, making the song even more beautiful than it already was.

Getting older, I was diagnosed with Lung Cancer at a late stage. After a few Chemotherapy sessions, I was forgetting a lot of things. I was then, diagnosed with dementia. The weird thing about it, is I can never forget her, specifically. I can’t remember the faces of my brothers, nor can I remember the face of my now deceased parents, but I can remember the exact moment I met her, the music that was playing and everything that happened after that. I can remember how it was honestly, the best and worst thing that ever happened to me.

Sometimes, in the hospital, I catch myself dancing to the music that played that night, that now repeatedly plays in my head, imagining her so young and as perfect as she was, in front of me, dancing with me. I catch myself smiling as I can imagine her so perfectly, as perfect as she once was. I just hope, wherever she is now, whatever she’s doing now, I hope she’s happy because she deserves it and I hope she found her silver lining as Quentin and I did.

Let me end off by saying, she was one of those girls where the last thing you would think about was leaving her or just having sex with her. She was beautiful and perfect, not just on the outside but in the inside as well. I know that's a cheesy thing to say but she was more than just a female, because she had a view on politics, religion and today’s society. She had the most perfect taste in music as she listened to Leonard Cohen and The Smiths, occasionally, John Cale. Yes, she was one of those nostalgist girls that prefered old over new, because she believed old had more meaning than new. She was that kind of girl that would just look at you or hug you, time would stop for a second and from that moment on, you knew everything was going to be okay, you were going to be alright. She was the kind of girl that would stop all the anger and the pain. She was that kind of girl that would forever hold a place in your heart. Her name, was Sandy.

I loved you and will always love you.