A Broken Speaker and Other Things

Dear Diary, 

10 pm 

It’s only 10pm and already it sounds like someone's having a mental breakdown. Whoever they are, they’re blasting really depressing music and have been for about an hour now. I know it’s depressing because It rattles my bones and replaced them with sticky sadness. I don’t think anyone has bones anymore. We’re all just sorrowful sound people. But I think that’s because silence is loud, deafeningly loud. 

10:30 pm 

  I’m not sure I can take much more of this, the sadness or the sound. But my neighbors are still blasting blue sadness. The music has a nostalgic sound to it so I’m certain its James, I’ve seen him about every day for a few years and he’s one of the most cheerful guys you’ll ever meet but somethings been off recently and no one else has noticed, his eyes are always droopy and tired. I want to run across the hall and see if he’s ok but I hold off. He typically goes to seep around 10:45pm so there’s no reason for me to leave just yet.   My heart is racing and for no good reason. It only ever races when I run track or when I think of him. I don’t really bother to sort out this feeling because I’m sure it’ll go away and I don’t really think that it’s super important. I mean, if it was, wouldn’t I have experienced it before? My hand is twisting one of my curls in thought as I write this entry.  

11pm 

 James is still not asleep which is very unusual for him. Concern is filling my stomach and I nervously pop open a sprite but I don’t drink it. It’s very obvious that I need to go see if he’s ok.  Wish me luck. 

 11:30pm 

 Oh boy. I don’t normally make so many entries but I feel like I need to this time because so much has changed and it’s only now that I’m realizing it. So, let me recap. I stepped into the blindingly bright hallway.  I walked to his dorm which is right across the hallway from mine ( he seemed very instant that our dorms be close together when he found out we’d both been accepted to the same college, I’m not sure as to why but a small part of me is glad that he did) I knocked on the door. No one came. I knocked again. Still no one. “James it's Tony,” I said. Immediately the door swung open. “Are you ok?” I asked. I studied his face, it's a very asymmetrical face, but it’s interesting like I want to sit down and draw it. “Of course, why wouldn’t I be?” he answered. “You’re playing that playlist that we made in 7th grade you only play that when somethings bothering you,” I state. He plays with his thumb ring and is about to say something else but then says, “It’s this damn speaker, I can’t seem to figure out how to get it to stop.” “Well, let me help, my dad's pretty good with mechanics and he taught me a lot of stuff. Besides, how hard can fixing a speaker be?” I suggest. “Very hard. Like extremely hard,” He snickers. “Wow you’re so optimistic, "I joked, I furrowing my brows at him then I shoved my scrawny 5’2 self in. He’s built like a football player and could easily stop me, but he never does.   

I grab the speaker off the kitchen countertop and fling myself onto the couch, feeling the familiar bounciness and creakiness. “I swear my grandpa is better with technology than you,” I said. He cracked a smile that 10/10 dentists would approve of and I turned away before he could see my cheeks flare up. I’m sure I blend in with the couch. I’m thinking about how nice his face is and I accidentally mumble “I want to draw your face.” “What?” He asks. My cheeks get even redder than the sofa. Luckily, he didn’t hear me.  “Could you get me like a small screwdriver or something?” I pinch my fingers together to show him what I’m talking about. “I’ll go look for one,” He says while patting down his bed. I stare up at the ceiling and feel the vibrations of the music in my hand. James has always been playing a song or humming one. He’s never been fond of quietness or nothingness. I think it distracts him from something but I’m not sure what. He’s been looking for said screwdriver for a while now. Which is odd considering that his dorm is very small. Why do my cheeks turn red whenever he smiles? I feel like a weird scientific experiment that someone messed up on. Or like a bootleg version of Frankenstein. 

11:30 pm 

 I’m an idiot but I don’t think that’s something that I didn’t already know. I’ll recap again. “I don’t think I have a small screwdriver or anything of the like,” James said, shrugging his shoulders helplessly. “How much do you like this speaker?” I asked him. “Tony, what are you going to do?” he asks, a hint of nervousness in his voice. I mean he’s not wrong to be nervous. I don’t answer, instead, I bang it against the linoleum floor. The music quickly stopped and surprisingly the speaker didn’t crack. “Tony what the hell?!” James shouted. “Well it worked,” I said shrugging my shoulders. “You really are hopeless, it’s like I’m your husband or something,” I joke. For a moment he looks like I just stabbed him, but it’s quickly replaced with a nervous grin.  

James was playing with the ring on his thumb and there was an awkwardness hanging in the room. “James please tell me what's wrong,” I said. He nervously bounces his leg up and down and says, “I’m not sure we can be friends anymore.” I remember how my body went numb and I couldn’t feel anything, yet I could also feel everything. . I think I understood, in that moment, why people don’t like silence. “I’m sorry Tony, but....” His voice cracked when he said my name. I couldn’t say anything. I wondered why he was doing this, “WHYWHYWHYWHWYWHYWHY?!!!,” My brain shouted. Finally, my mouth worked “No,” I said firmly. James then stared at me like I had grown 3 heads. 

This whole situation was just wrong, I didn’t understand it, so I tried to do something normal. I walked over to his mini-fridge and grabbed two sprites. “What are you doing?” James timidly asked.  Did someone hurt him? I wondered, twisting one of the curls that had fallen into my eyes with a free hand. Because if they did then the last thing, they would see would be a 5’2 Italian ball of rage. “James, I’m staying your friend whether you like it or not, now, please tell me what happened, did someone hurt you? Because you’ve been acting weird lately and, you’re worrying me,” I said, my voice cracking. “No one hurt me I- …. I’ve just been confused recently,” James stammered. I handed him the sprite not knowing what else to do. He popped it open but didn’t drink it. I was sure that something terrible had happened. My heart was racing again, was I dying? “But what does that have to do with you saying that we shouldn’t be friends anymore?” I asked desperately. “Tony I-” He said fidgeting uncomfortably. “I don’t think we can be friends because I don’t want to be just friends, I-” He said. He ran his hand through his hair that was the color of graham crackers. Then it hit me, James liked me. I felt myself into a 12-year-old. Because 12-year- olds are painfully immature. “I uhm I’m gonna go use the bathroom,” I say. And that’s where I’m at right now. I’m writing about all of this in a damn journal while hiding out in the bathroom like an idiot. Why won’t he tell me what's wrong? Is it something that I did or said? 

Some unknown time later 

It’s odd how the moments that you know are important don’t feel important when you're experiencing them, you only realize that they were important when you look back on them. I realized that I had grown very silent and James was waiting for me to say something, to say anything. But I didn’t say anything. Instead, I hugged him because even though there are over 100,000 words in the English language, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to string enough together to tell him how I feel. James broke down and started sobbing. “Please don’t tell anyone else,” He begged. “Because my dad-,” he whispered. “I know,” I said. “And the church-,” he began. “I know,” I said again. I’m not sure how long we sat like that, him crying into my arms and me not knowing what to do but knowing that I wanted to comfort him, I wanted to be there for him, I want to take care of him. 

 How long had he felt like this? Why didn’t he tell me? Why is this happening and why does it have to hurt so much? He and I both know that things won’t be the same. Not just between us but our families, oh god our families. I mean it’s not like we hooked up or anything, but to some people, a guy liking another guy is worse than a hookup. I didn’t know at the moment what would happen to us and even as I write this now, I’m still not sure. “Are we still friends?” James asked. I looked at him, at his face that I always wanted to draw, and I feel my heart start to race again and I’m sure that James can feel it too. 

 Instead of answering I grab the abandoned sprite and give it to him. “I don’t know what we are,” I admit. “But for now, let's just enjoy it, whatever it is,” he says cracking that smile that every dentist is jealous of. “Do you still want to draw my face?” James asked. So, it appears that he had heard me. “ If you pay me enough then yea maybe,” I said starting to laugh. He laughs and starts to tackle me but accidentally spills the sprite on me. He seems shocked but then I tackle him back spilling more sprite and soon we’re absolutely drenched in soda and laughing like idiots 

 I force him down onto the ground with my body hovering above his. His eyes widen but I lay down next to him so we’re both staring at the ceiling. “So up in the upper right corner,” I said painting the air with my hand. “Is where the Big Dipper is,” I said. I can feel him staring at me, but I don’t look at him. “And over there,” I said motioning with my hand “Is where I think the Ursa Major is,” I continue. “Tonight's a lovely night for stargazing,” James said. I want to tell him of every constellation that I know. I paint the air and make beautiful paintings that only him and I can see. None of these things (the stars or James’s and my feelings) developed overnight. But they’re both silent and beautiful.