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penny-p-pen · 5 years

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Simon

Knowing Eyes

They say eyes are the windows to the soul, I first fell in love with his eyes, so I guess also quickly fell in love with his soul. Those eyes of his, so warm yet so bold, they always seemed to be wanting something, wanting something more out of everyone, more out of life, he just wanted more.

No. More isn’t the right word; he wanted something better, more acceptances, a greater willingness to change. Those eyes wanted to see people grow, watch them make decisions that would better someone else’s life, better the world, and yet, they were never demanding, never glaring or cold. Those eyes of his looked at you, looked past the physical you and looked at your soul. They pleaded with it, yearned for that soul to be a beautiful one, one that caused change, he wanted that from everyone, but I think he wanted it from me the most.

He saw into me, saw the timid little mouse of a man I was. Saw that there was something more I wanted from life. Those mesmerizing eyes looked into mine and somehow knew I was here for something important. That I held a far greater purpose then I would ever allow myself to believe. His eyes knew from the beginning, they needed no convincing, he knew I was meant to be something more. His belief in me was confirmed before I could even allow myself to dream that I could believe in myself.

So much had led us to that moment, allowed us to be there, staring soul to soul, heart to heart. Somehow time’s plan allowed us to be there, together and in that moment on that snowy night, that moment of bliss, I was finally free. Lip to lip he set my soul free and gave me the courage I thought I could never have. I pulled him in closer and smiled into it. I was finally free.

But I’m getting ahead of myself, a big event can only happen because of smaller ones, ones that a set a ball in motion without anyone knowing. Those small events called life are important, to me and to him…

A Latte and a Laugh

We met in a coffee shop, both of us were laughing as the barista messed up name after name, saying strange variations of names that shouldn’t have been too hard, K-all for Kyle, Laura turned into Bora and m’lady was supposed to be Melody.

Marcus was the first to talk, first to start the ball rolling, he started the first conversation we’d ever have, started our connection.

“I’m lucky; they can’t really mess up my name. Well I suppose they could say it in an odd way but Marcus… pretty hard to mess up.”

I admired how easily he started up the conversation, I was a stranger, he didn’t need to talk to me, but he did. My mouth opened before my brain could spiral into self-doubt. “You are lucky. I’ve had a few uh…. Interesting… mess ups on Simon. Gotten Simone, Siman and uh… heh… seamon…”

He turned to face me, blinking in silence, my mind raced, ‘stupid,’ I thought. ‘I’m so stupid, why did I just tell a him all th-“

He burst out laughing. His nose crinkling as his laughter came out louder, a warm and genuine sound. “They messed up Simon? SIMON? Damn man, I am so sorry.” He set a light brown hand on my shoulder, bending forward, trying to get over his fit of laughter. He dried those tears you get from laughing from his eyes taking a deep breath. “I am so sorry man.”

He was about to say something more when the barista called out the next name, “Mareus? Is there a Mareus?... Grande vanilla cappuccino with skim milk?”

I couldn’t help but chuckle as Marcus let out a small huff, “guess I spoke to soon, they canin fact mess up Marcus.”

She called another name, “Simon? Peppermint latte for Simon?” Marcus and I looked at each other, shaking our heads and smiling; they got my name right for once and oddly enough messed up Marcus’s. We stood there for a minute, not wanting to part ways. Marcus shrugged, “well enjoy Simon, I’ll see you around.” He walked off, leaving to continue his day.

I stood there, grinning like a goof, maybe this was what happiness was like, and maybe this was what confidence was like.

Sketches

Days passed and those days turned into weeks, I didn’t see Marcus again until I went back to the coffee shop.

I sat in the back corner, soft chairs with large fluffy pillows that faced a window, I loved this back corner. It was always warm and always empty. It was like a little nook, a private place for me to relax. I sat there, watching people walk by, pulling out my sketch book; I pressed my pencil’s eraser to my lips, looking for inspiration. There was an elderly couple across the road, sitting on their usual park bench. He always held her hand in his; he looked like he did it so gently, as if she was an old china doll that needed to be treated with care. Her cheeks were always rosy and her eyes always bright and full of love, full of life. I glanced down the blank page and back up at the couple and started sketching.

“…That’s really good.”

His voice startled me. I looked up, not knowing my eyes had gone wide in fear, not realizing my hands had tightly latched onto the book and pencil. He took a step back, raising his hands in front of his chest. “Hey… hey it’s okay.”

I blinked a few times, “Marcus?”

He nodded, smiling a little, “thought you almost forgot who I was. Sorry if I startled you.” He sat down next to me, still looking at my work. “It really is nice Simon, you like drawing?”

I nodded, “sort of. I’m really no good at it but it’s always been a fun hobby.”

He snapped his fingers, causing me to jump slightly, “you should come to the art class I’m teaching at the Rec Center!”

“Wha’?”

“The art class I teach! It’s a beginner level painting class; we’re starting the new course next week. The first one seemed to be really popular but there’s still room in this one! Come on Simon, please.”

His eyes were sparkling, two emeralds, two dazzling orbs that sucked me in and would never let me go, and I felt myself nod, “okay…” Those eyes gleamed brighter, drawing me closer, slowly melting my fears while building up my confidence.

“That’s great! We meet on Thursday’s at 6:00! If you paint half as good as you sketch- well you’ll be a natural!”

As quickly as he came into my corner of the world he left, leaving me blinking in silence, ‘what had I just committed to?’

Art and the Heart

I stared up at the large brick building, gulping slightly. The place had always intimidated me, it seemed too large, too imposing, and someone like me couldn’t make it in there. Sure it was a ‘community cente’r; sure anyone could go in but someone like me… I knew I would be eaten alive by people who were better than me. I was about to turn around, about to jump back into my car and drive away, go back into me little home and hide, but I walked right into him.

“Hey Simon, you ready?”

“I- I uh… well Marcus maybe I shouldn’t-“

“You’ll be fine Simon, come on!”

He took my hand and pulled me in not allowing me time to protest. I couldn’t think, I was running on auto pilot, just following where he pulled me. His hand felt like it could manage a strong grip but the flesh of his palm was so soft. I shook my head, “nuh”, ‘you can’t be falling for him Simon.’

“You say something Simon?”

“N-no- I uh… I-“

“Hey, you’ll be fine; no one is expected to be perfect their first time painting!”

He pulled me into a large room, gesturing me to sit at a table near a large window. “Best seat in the house. Even at night that window can provide you inspiration.”

I nod, sitting down and waiting for everyone else to file in, waiting for the class to start, hoping that I’d just be able to blend in. They soon did, Marcus started teaching, telling us to paint from the heart, to not question our instincts, to believe in ourselves and then he set us free, told us to just, paint.

I hesitated with every brush stroke, even with his words fresh in my mind I couldn’t seem to let go of my fears and just let my brush move freely across the canvas. Marcus walked around the room, stopping at every canvas, giving advice and praise, but never criticism. He came to mine, watching my motions with curious eyes.

“Having trouble getting a certain color?”

I nodded sheepishly, “yeah, I want to paint the sky, it’s well… it was an inky black but a black that looked blue with… with silver from the stars… I’m sorry that probably doesn’t make any sen-“

His hand was next to mine, gently taking the palette knife out of my hand, mixing black and blues. “Try that.”

I blinked a few times, looking at the color; it seemed perfect on the palette, so hesitantly I dip my brush, closing my eyes as I let it sweep across the canvas. I peak at the canvas, hesitantly cracking one eye open. The color was exactly what I wanted. I turned to see Marcus smiling at my expression. “That the color you wanted?”

I nodded, “yes, its perfect thank you.”

“I’m glad, now for that silver; mix a little grey with a lot of white. We have an almost clear color that leaves a shine, which should work.”

I nodded again, “th-thanks.”

I’m smiling, the rest of the painting seems to come naturally, I’m so transfixed by watching it progress in front of me that I’m startled when Marcus addresses the class again.

“Alright guys, 8:00, we have to start cleaning up now. If you didn’t finish don’t worry. Leave you canvas where it is and you can cover your paints with the lid the palettes came with.”

“Simon?...”

I jump as I turn around, not expecting to hear anyone other than Marcus call my name, My heart seems to jump and sink at the same time. “…Daniel?”

“Surprised you still remember me.”

I hate it, his voice is cold, his eyes, once full of joy were now a stormy grey. They now held so much sorrow, a sorrow that as much as I wanted to, I could never understand and never take away.

“What do you mean? We dated for like- five years, I- I really can never forget you.”

“Yeah,” he rolled his eyes. “Seems like you’ve moved on though.”

He glanced towards Marcus, making his point painfully clear.

‘Is it that obvious?”

“Have to be pretty damn blind to not notice. Finally getting comfortable with your sexuality? Finally gonna actually show love when out in public?”

I let out a small growl that sounded more like a whimper, “Danny, you know that’s not fair I-‘

“First,” I notice his hands ball into fists, “don’t ‘Danny’ me. And second, it is fair to bring up that you never wanted to be affectionate with me when we were in public!”

I couldn’t argue, I was terrified to even hold Daniel’s hand when we were out together, and now here I was blushing when Marcus walked by. “And for that I’m sorry Daniel. I really am, I- I was scared, both for my safety and for your own.”

“Why did you leave me then? We could’ve handled the hatred together.”

“We- we were going different ways Danny. You wanted to leave this town, go make a better life in the city and I- well you know I like the familiar, I wanted things to stay stable. You were so set to leave and all I wanted to do was stay…. Why didn’t you leave?”

He didn’t answer; we were silent as people started filing out. Daniel finally shrugged, “things just- didn’t work out. Place I was gonna stay fell through, couldn’t find work and then the... my… I- well things just got fucked up. So why are you here Simon? You never wanted anyone to see your art. So why take a class where it’s likely a lotta people will see it?”

“Marcus sort of convinced me, he... he told me I was good… told me I should come and I… He pulled me in before I could chicken out. What about you? Thought you were never one for anything creative”

“My fucking housemate made me join up. Thought I needed to get out of the house and do things. Said it was bad for me to just sit at home. Connor’s such an idiot, an art class isn’t going to help me with anything.”

‘Come on Danny I bet he isn’t that bad, and I’m sure this class will help you.”

I reached out to comfort him, but he quickly slapped my hand away. “DON’T TOUCH ME! AND DON’T CALL ME DANNY! That part of us is gone Simon! Don’t start bringing what’s dead back to life!” He pushed past me, fuming and angry. I watched him leave, watched his back as he headed for the door, watched as he seemed to limp a little with every few steps. “…Daniel.”

Marcus walked over to me, “hey, no tears, it’s alright.”

I blushed, mumbling as I dried a tear, not realizing it had fallen.

Marcus sighed, “Daniel doesn’t mean to be like that. A lot has happened in the last few years.”

“How… How do you know?”

“Connor and I are pretty close,” he laughed, “actually dated for a few months. Didn’t work but we remain close… Daniel doesn’t want to hurt you Simon. And I promise I won’t hurt you either.” He took hold of my hands smiling warmly, silently convincing me that I would be okay.

He walked out with me, heisting to leave. “You’ll be okay?”

“Yeah… Yeah I’ll be okay. I’ll see you next week Marcus.”

“I’m looking forward to it Simon.” He smiled as he got into his car and drove away.

#detroit become human daniel #detroit become human #detroit become human simon #detroit become human markus

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jswdmb1 · 5 years

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#41

“I will go in this way,

and find my own way out

I wont tell you to stay,

but i'm coming to much more”

- Dave Matthews Band

April 17, 2019,

Dear Coach Moser,

I’ll keep this short because I know you are busy, but I wanted to thank you for taking the time to talk to me at the other night after the post-season banquet. It was a special event celebrating a great season and it was an honor to be there. As a season ticket holder for the first time since I graduated, I was so impressed with the team and how they handled themselves after the incredible Final Four run. Despite all of the pressure, they never stopped trying and won back-to-back conference titles. You and your staff have to be incredibly proud of such an effort and I thank you on behalf of the entire Loyola community for a commitment to developing student-athletes that have the character that makes them such fine men.

But as I told you the other night, this year meant so much more to me. With the eve of the Final Four coming on the one-year anniversary of my father’s death (a Loyola alum himself) the gift you and your team gave me was very personal and rekindled a spirit in me that had been gone for a while. As the season started out, I was excited for the potential of riding the momentum from the previous season, but as time wore on, I saw something even more special develop. I felt like that I got to know the players and could see the way they were feeling the pressure of such expectations. I stopped thinking about last year, or what might happen in the post-season ahead, and instead began to appreciate the performances and effort of the present. Once I began paying attention, I found it incredible at how prepared the team was and that they never took one play off. Sure, they missed shots, made turnovers, and maybe missed a defensive assignment, but it was never for a lack of effort and every player, without exception, always made up for it somewhere down the line with an equally impressive bit of hustle.

And that is what I will most take away from the 2018-19 season. As fun as it was to be at all of those games, the indelible memory for me is guys like Clayton, Marcus, and Cameron giving every bit of themselves for their team and their school. While they had some room to probably rest on their laurels, they actually seemed to work even harder to prove themselves. It also showed me that bottom line results are not what life is all about and that being satisfied with yourself is what is most important. If you put your head down, work hard, and do the right thing, good things usually happen. I didn’t always believe that or even think it was a possibility in life, but after watching your team’s extraordinary effort this past season, now I do. And that, as I told you, I think has made me a better person, which is a gift I will never be able to repay to you, your players, or the University that makes it all possible.

When I came home from work the other day, my wife had a look on her face as if something awful had happened. We have had a lot of tragedy in our lives the past couple of years, so I have to admit I was a bit relieved when her news was that rumor had it you were leaving Loyola (I think it was her way of letting me down easy). Later, I thought about it and realized that such an opportunity would be natural to find its way to you and that we as Loyola fans should be honored that our coach would be in the running for positions at bigger programs. That is a natural part of life and I don’t think anyone should have faulted you one bit if you took the offer. Still, after meeting you and listening to you and your team at the banquet, I knew it was going to be tough decision, and I was happy to hear the news last night that you were staying. It was another example of you and your program confirming that I lucked into a special situation by being a part of the Loyola community. It also provided me a teaching moment with my eleven-year old son, who was very concerned about your decision in the preceding twenty-four hours since the news broke. I’ll leave you with the story I told him after we found out you were staying.

As I told you at the banquet, my dad passed away in 2017, but he was a Loyola alum and went into public education after graduation and never left. He ended up at a small school district in the western suburbs and worked his way up the ranks from teacher to principal to superintendent. When he took over the job as superintendent, things at the district were in very bad shape. There had been major problems with the previous administration involving fraud and the district was broke. He worked tirelessly to turn things around and make the schools there places where kids who don’t always get the best opportunities could thrive. There was a lot of sacrifice involved, but he was taught by his father that if you put your head down, work hard, and do the right thing, good things usually happen. After about ten years, he got a very lucrative offer at another district that would have been much easier and allowed him to achieve a higher profile in his career. I was old enough at that point where he talked to me about it before declining the offer. He wanted to make sure he did the right thing. I think it was the first time I realized he really valued my opinion. Without hesitation, I told him to stay where he was and work in the place he helped build and where he was happy. He stayed at that same district for forty years until he retired a few years before he passed, and I know he never had one regret.

I hope that story sounds familiar. I came up to talk to you, because I had to let you know about the appreciation I had for the values the university has and how much I respect how you implement them in your basketball program. People probably think that I am a little crazy with how much of a fan I am, but it has to do with more than basketball. Loyola is a beacon of hope in a world that has pretty much given up on the ethics and values that I was taught by my Dad, which were the same he was taught growing up. Every time I come to campus for a game, I get a good feeling knowing that he would be proud of what has happened in Rogers Park. It actually keeps a connection to him for me even though he has been gone for a while (as you told me, he is looking down on all of this and smiling). I also think he would be proud of me for not giving up when things looked bleak in my life and things got really rough. Your team was a big part of my inspiration and I will never be able to repay you. The best I can do is keep coming to every game wearing my thirty-year old jacket, scarf and goofy hat and provide whatever support I can give your team. In the meantime, I hope you are able to get some rest and relaxation before the summer camps start and enjoy some time with your family.

See you in the fall,

Jim White, BBA, Class of 1994

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