5 October 2013.
Today is Saturday and, me being me, I forgot that for working men, their days off are sacred. And for Teacher Sam? He is definitely a hermit on his days off.
I parked in front of his apartment at five in the morning—five!—with nothing to do but call my therapist and ask how this whole journal writing thing works. Who exactly am I writing for? Because it's clear I'm not one for reading or her for that matter.
And do you want to know her answer?
YOU.
She genuinely thought she was making sense. She clearly wasn't.
So I decided to write this as if I'm telling it to our future children someday. The story of how I met their father. How he rocked and changed my life.
Look at me, already imagining our future together.
With him wrapped in a blanket on the couch, binge-watching a series me and the kids have memorized since forever, Spoiling the fun as we retell it to him even when he begs us not to.
How cute is that?
But-together?
Is that even possible for us?
This feels so close to being gay.
Is he gay though? …Shit.
I hate this. I hate being here and him-just a drive away and still not knowing shit!
But what's the harm in imagining us as a family though? Even with him not being gay and all.
He just have to be the super-dad and me as his loyal husband. Is that too much to ask?
Will that ever be real, Sam?
When I can't even walk up to you without feeling like my bones are shaking and my head retarded?
Will you ever notice me?
Even as your loyal shadow, will your eyes ever scan the crowd and land on me someday?
Because in my head, we're already something.
But in reality… I'm not even a footnote in your life. Not even an existence in your statistics...
And on the other hand, he's still practically a stranger to me.
There's so much I don't know about him.
What if he turns out to be a serial killer? And all this goodness is just an act? His alibi?
Anyway, onto the highlight of the day.
We went to the park after his class at the center.
The air was painfully cold, people running for shelter, but there he was, determined to finish whatever mission he had set for himself. Earbuds in, oblivious to the world.
I panicked when the clouds rolled in - no umbrella in sight - so I sprinted to the nearest store.
When I came back, I didn't find a shivering man hugging himself for warmth like I had imagined.
I found him smiling.
Shy. Soft.
And then humming, louder and louder as the rain fell harder on us.
Midnight rain. That's his thing.
Who would've guessed?
I sat behind him, close enough to steal his warmth.
He didn't even turn around.
Didn't question it.
Didn't care.
That annoyed me.
What if I was dangerous?
What if I wasn't… me?
But annoyance didn't stand a chance against that moment.
His citrus cologne in the rain.
His warmth radiating through the cold.
His voice tangled with thunder.
His joy, so bright it was blinding...
Is this what it feels like to be in love?
And here I thought I was incapable. Weird. Wrong.