1/2 priced monday
Written by Tony Fragale
Do you recognize me?
I served you wine once. Chardonnay.
I told you about the time that the whole 3rd grade class saw my erection while I was climbing a rope that was about half the size of the gym.
And I remember feeling warm because you had laughed, and we all crave the feeling of inducing laughter.
But, you really don't recognize me?
You said I had a funny rouse, and that plenty people would find me enticing.
You said I was smart, but I was misguided.
You said I was a liar, and the truth is much more attractive, and that maybe I wouldn't try to impress, but instead relate.
The truth is, I remember listening to every word that seamlessly dwindled from your tongue.
You talked about the world like someone who had just saw color for the first time. Shades brighter than orange, or deeper than purple.
Optimism arrived in me. Because admiration of the human condition is rare. Loving the spine chilling feeling of self-doubt or bathing in the first cup of coffee just hoping it lasts a little bit longer to get your final words in before distance and is this a date? sets in.
I sat like a sponge and soaked in everything you said and felt a surge of longing to speak openly like we all did when we were 10.
Proclaiming that we are surrounded by people who are bellowing in their hopelessness at all times, living in fear of the next time we are alone, afraid of the disease that is being disconnected.
“Enjoy every minute of it” you said with hazy eyes because everyone feels lust, hatred, jealousy, uneasiness, sadness, embarrassment and that it is easy to accept any shitty excuse we gather from our disturbed peers. You said that if you can actually objectively feel you've already won, and that things will get better.
I gave you a bewildered glare and dimples impacted from your face as you smirked at me with orange eyes.
I wasn't shaking because I was nervous, I was shivering because for the first time I had actually felt raw instead of ordinary. For the first time someone immediately skipped past the mundane. I felt a churning in my stomach that felt nostalgic and pure. It was as if all of these tiny shards of half-truths had finally colluded together in my brain because I was finally comfortable being around someone. You enjoyed conversation, and you weren't checking the screen in your pocket every time that god damn bell rang. You valued the real life. Because for the first time nobody asked me for my Snapchat, Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, VSCO, Vine, as if these were byproducts of some sort of recognizable idea of myself.
You said beneath our false images, we all want to believe that what we do is very important, that people hang on to our every word, that people really do care what we think, but you should consider yourself lucky if you even occasionally get to make anyone feel a little better.
And now I need to just walk right past you pretending that I haven't thought about anything you said, or that I don't recognize you because that's what we do.
I can tell you that after this moment I will never be silent again.
And maybe one day when this all makes sense I'll be able to look at you and thank you for the truth.
Because on that occasion, you made me feel just a little bit better.
Contact Tony by email at email@example.com