Life (as i know it)

Venaimin

I’d seen him at our Christian Challenge and around campus at least a couple times. My first impression was simply that he was tall. Taller than me anyway, which isn’t especially hard to be, but tall nonetheless.

 He was an interesting looking guy. He had a friendly looking face that mentioned a jawline and an authentically disarming smile.  He’d let his hair grow out a little and his sandy looking bangs stuck out from underneath the black golfer’s hat that he always seemed to have on. He also wore a pair of black rimmed glasses that I can only describe as hipster. They framed his eyes, which I’d be lying about if I said were uninteresting. His lashes were long, almost girly, and his irises were basically hazel when he wore the wrong color, but in the right shirt and light, they sometimes looked overcast blue or earthy green.

 It had always been cold when I had seen him, so he’d always been wearing a classy looking navy button up coat, the kind you might see on a politician during the winter, but his blue jeans threw off any impression of over-dressed. I had never seen him wearing anything outside of fun looking converse, most with interesting prints and colors.

The first time I actually talked to him, I honestly felt a little intimidated. He came off so unique and put together. He certainly seemed to know who he was and the way he talked to his friends made me think he was popular, if not campus wide, at least in his circles. We were at a outdoor cookout event that the Baptist Student Union was holding, complete with a bonfire, hotdogs, and smores. It was quite the crowd, but somehow we’d ended up in near vicinity.

“What’s your name again?” he asked. His voice was absurdly deep for being so skinny.

“Eli,” I said, awkward kicking in, like a virus taking over a hard drive. We shook hands.  “And you’re Ven, right?”

He nodded, “Mhmm.”

What quickly became apparent was that Ven was almost as awkward as I was. He talked in soft tones and generally kept to himself, though he admitted later to not being so outgoing of a person the semester before. As we talked, I learned that he enjoyed a lot of the same things as me. Movies and TV series became a quick topic of discussion between us. He liked superheroes and, even though he remained under some delusion that DC was better than Marvel, we had a time of discussing our favorites between us.

That was a year and a half ago. Since then, we’ve spent a summer together in Colorado and a significant amount of time watching movies and TV shows. We’ve talked about our futures and God and even girls. I’ve got to know Ven in a way that I haven’t really yet experienced in another guy.

I’ve talked a lot about myself on this book. I’ve talked about friendships and my problems with social relationships and my trust issues. I hesitate to make claims about the friends I’ve made. To classify Ven as a “good friend” scares me. Or really, I’m scared to get too attached. I always get too attached. I expect people to stick around forever after we’ve met. Leaving is never an option for me or my friends. Which is why the once or twice it’s ever happened in my life I’m left emotionally damaged, a chunk of my soul shorn away.

But here I go again, fighting against everything I know about myself.

Who knows how long it’ll last? Another year? A couple more months? I dunno. But I’m learning, also, that what matters isn’t the length, but what you do with the time you have.

So, for now at least, Ven is my good friend. 

There. I said it. 

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I post this at the risk of sounded kinda gay. And feeling incredibly awkward. So there.

-FlyOn