Her eyes pleaded with me to stay for just a bit longer. I turned to gaze into her face and saw the beginnings of tears threatening to break through the dams holding them back, and spill from those liquid pools filled with sorrow. In all the time we had been together, I still couldn’t refuse any request she made with those eyes.

“Alright, I’ll stay for just a little while longer, Sinky.”

It was a private joke between the two of us. It was a nickname that I had given her when she first started learning how to swim; a slight variation on “Pinky*” which she called me from time to time. During the first week of lessons, she sank like a rock every single time. She just couldn’t figure out how to consistently float.

A small smile cracked through her sad visage and she punched me in the arm. “I don’t sink anymore”, she declared. “Yes, I know,” and I kissed her forehead. We sat up all night talking about our plans and what we would try to keep in touch. We were kids and we thought that anything was possible. I sat there, holding and talking to her for most of the night, till she fell asleep. For the next few hours, I simply watched the rise and fall of her steady breathing, no stress or sadness creased her face any longer. She looked beautiful.

When morning arrived, I woke up and looked around. I was still half-sitting there, on the couch with her nestled in my arms. I had fallen asleep sometime during the night while still holding her, so I never left her side. It was what she wanted. Being careful not to disturb her, I tried to stretch my arm, since it had fallen asleep. My movement must have not gone unnoticed cause I heard her murmur something in her sleep. I stopped and leaned back to simply enjoy the comforting feeling that I wished would never leave.

Slowly the house awoke and I gently shook her awake. I didn’t want to wake such an angelic face, but I didn’t have much choice.

“I don’t wanna wake up. Pwwease can I sleep a lil bit more?,” she whined.

“You sleep too much, hun. So much that my arm and leg are asleep too. You’re contagious,” I chided playfully.

“But you’re not asleep. Why?”

“I don’t know. I’ve slept enough already. I’d rather be awake, knowing you are here with me.”

She looked up at my face and sighed; settling back down into my arms, squeezing my body tighter as she did so. “I don’t wanna go…”

“I know, I know, sweetie…neither do I.”

Part: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10.

*Pinky. It was the nickname she gave me due to the fact that I always told her not to mess with me because I had a pinky and I wasn’t afraid to use it.

It had to be one of the most difficult summers of my young life. There we were, just having finished the 7th grade and we knew that in just a short amount of time, she’d be moving elsewhere. After what we believed to be an eternity of learning and growing as a couple, we would be torn asunder due to circumstances beyond our control. It was not the way we wanted to start our summer.

She was going to be moving during the last month of summer, before school resumed in the fall. Knowing that, we spent as much as we could with each other. It was a fight that we knew we couldn’t win, but we tried our best, seeing if our efforts would somehow extend the time we had with each other. It was a joyous time, but deep in our hearts we knew that day would eventually come.

The warm days wrapped us in a comforting blanket of togetherness, as we watched the clouds float lazily by. During that time, we watched movies, hung out at the park and spent time together only the way couples could. She often came to my waterpolo games to watch me play. It was a summer filled with tender moments, as well as many moments of levity.

I remember teaching her how to swim and windsurf, since she didn’t know how to do either. My patience and understanding was sorely tested while I taught her to swim, but it was well worth the trouble. It would be something that she would always carry with her; a little something that would remind her of me. Plus, she wouldn’t drown if she ever ended up falling into a deep body of water. It took a month of half-drowning, water-swallowing and spluttering expressions before she could swim. It was probably the most memorable time I had with her that summer.

On her last day, we had dinner and went back to the house to rest up and pack the very last of their things. She and I spent most of the night talking and laughing, keeping the sadness at bay. As the clock struck two, I figured that it was time to go. I got up and gathered my things, when I felt her hand on my arm.

“Please. Please, don’t go…”

Part: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10.

We were both extremely young. This situation was new to the both of us and there were many awkward and confusing moments during that time. After all, this was our first relationship. There was no handbook or manual that outlined the steps to take, nor did it warn us about the bumps and scratches that we would encounter along the way. Over that first year, we learned.

That year opened my eyes wide to the wonders, complexities and sheer mental stress that girls and guys put each other through. Through personality clashes, differing thoughts and disagreements, we persevered. It was a learning process that would take us through the trials of fire and brimstone. At least that’s what I thought at that age.

As 12 year olds, I know now that we were never meant to last. There was such a steep learning curve that one could not possibly understand or cope at such a young age. Our breadth of knowledge only extended so far. Only time and experience would teach us the follies of our mistakes. It was then that we would be able to grow and gain a greater depth of understanding.

It was a long year filled with ups and downs and many compromises. Many moments of joy and an even number of frustrations as well. Why couldn’t she understand what I was trying to say? Why couldn’t I do what she wanted me to do? There were many times where I thought that girls were put on this earth to drive guys mad. I know that I learned more about myself that year than all of the previous years combined. Girls will do that to you. They’ll drive you to the brink of insanity and somehow bring you back.

Toward the end of the year, our arguments slowly subsided and our relationship improved. We had done the impossible. Our relationship had lasted almost the entirety of the school year. That was totally unheard of and even more so, envied. Somehow, our unstable and often confusing relationship gave others hope, when in reality we knew the real truth. We were simply 2 crazy little kids who cared about each other far too much.

That’s why it was something of a shock when she found out that she had to move away.

Part: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10.

After what seemed like an uncomfortable hour of silence, I stammered out an incoherent phrase that went something like, “So when you going home?”. That has got to be one of the slickest and most charming phrases ever to pass through these honeyed lips of mine. She, being the more sane one, said something along the lines of, “Well, I was going to walk home in a bit, what about you?”

If my head was screwed on straight, just like a bright and shiny new light-bulb, I would have understood that what she said left the door wide open for a myriad of responses. But being the listless dud that I am, I replied with something much less suave.

“Oh, ok. I’m walking too.”

*long pause*

“Oh, hey, can I walk you home?”

After my beautiful follow-up question, she tilted her head to one side, smiled her sweet smile and agreed. Grabbing our things, we headed out from school. Not much was said as we walked along.

Should I hold her hand? Should I walk closer to her? What should I do? These thoughts clouded my mind as I continued to plod along beside her as I became more uncomfortable with each minute that passed by. The resulting nervous energy that was bottled up inside of me came out in the form of hopping from curb to street and back again. I couldn’t seem to walk next to her.

Screwing up my courage to break this awkward silence, I did what I always did in situations like these. She became the butt of my jokes. I began to poke and prod her verbally. This was what our relationship had grown to be. My “game” hadn’t matured nor had I the experience to understand what to do next.

Pretending to feel hurt and pout, she asked, “Can you just be normal and be nice to me for once?”

“I am very nice. You’re just unlucky whenever you’re around me.”

“Okay, fine. But can you be nice to me right now?”

“Oh, uh okay. Sure. Sorry.”

At that point I was totally dumbfounded. I thought I knew what the boundaries were and how our friendship had been defined up to that point. Is this what all guys had to go through? While I pondered these thoughts silently, I inadvertently wandered farther into the street than I had anticipated. Suddenly, she grabbed my hand and pulls me back toward the curb.

“Hey! What are you trying to do? Get killed?”

Her movement startled me out of my reverie and I mumbled something along the lines of, “Sorry…just lost in thought.” However, I did notice that she didn’t let go of my hand. In fact, she had both of her hands holding onto mine. I looked at her and she had this expression etched across her face. An expression of worry and concern that I knew probably came from my absentmindedness.

As I felt the warmth and weight of her body penetrate mine, I smiled to myself, apologized and readjusted my hand in her hands. She sighed and leaned into me, resting her head against my shoulder and muttered, “Boys…so stupid.”

And I couldn’t agree with her more.

Part: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10.

As they approached, I tried pulling myself together, but I couldn’t get a grip. My mind was racing at Mach speeds and I could feel my body getting hot from nervousness. I prayed that I wouldn’t get so nervous that I would start sweating profusely. That would definitely kill me, not to mention make her run away in absolute horror.

Somehow, I made it through the initial pleasantries and I even managed to crack a few jokes while I waited for the girls to leave. Sensing that something was up, the girls refused to budge. As the conversation slowly ground to a halt, I realized that they would not leave; just so they could see one of their classmates make a total ass out of himself in front of the girl that he liked. Girls, they’re evil I tell you. Evil.

Fortunately, she was much wiser and forceful than I was. She ended up urging and shooing her friends to go home. After she successfully forced the last girl to go, promising that she’d call her as soon as she got home, we found ourselves suddenly very alone. Almost all of our other schoolmates had disappeared from the area.

It was if fate had intervened and was watching with mirth as I fell apart from the inside out.

Part: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10.

She wasn’t my first crush and she wouldn’t be my last. No, by that point in my life I’d had plenty of crushes. Some were short and sweet; the kind where the giddy feeling would pass a mere month down the road. And then there were the crushes that rolled over from school year to school year. Those were the ones that made me lose my sanity.

I wasn’t sure why she was different from the previous ones, but she was. She had long black hair that was always tied up in a topknot ponytail, which exposed her neck and shoulders, especially when the weather was warm. She was thin, fair-skinned and tall for an Asian girl considering our ages, and by my estimate, she had started developing early. She had this shy smile and lilting laugh that sent a jolt right into the very core of my being, melting my heart and the steel surrounding it. Whenever she spoke, I found myself inexplicably drawn to whatever she had to say. And when she stopped, my mind would scramble to find something to say, anything to say, just so I could hear her respond once more.

Yeah, so I was a dork. Give me a break.

I met her about a month into my 7th grade year. I spoke with her from time to time, between classes and during lunch, but I never really paid much attention to her otherwise. Most of my efforts went to teasing her. You see, that was my psychological defense against the unpredictable unknown. And it was my quirky way of showing that I had interest in a girl, but I was simply too cool to care.

Over time, we became more comfortable with each other. I remember going out of my way to walk her to the door of her classroom and I would buy her little snacks whenever she felt hungry. She would respond with her laughter and swan song voice. Every now and again, she’d push, punch or hug me, which always sent shivers down my spine. I wasn’t sure how to interpret the mixed signals, but I simply took them in stride. I’d do anything just to see her smile and hear her laugh. I had completely flipped over a girl.

Looking back, I’m sure that she had figured out that I liked her, since my clumsy flirting was quite obvious, but she didn’t shun me nor did she run away. Score! One day, I decided that I would try something that I had tried before, but had always been unsuccessful.

As soon as the last bell rang, I became a streak of light, running as fast as my legs could carry me so I could be there at her locker when she arrived. As she came strolling down the hall, a cadre of girlfriends happen to be tagging along. My mouth started to go dry and I thought to myself,”Shit! I wasn’t expecting to face 5 girls.” What to do? Should I take off before they could spot me and try this another day? Or should I just gut it out and be a man? While I debated with myself, one of the girls spotted me and called out.

Damn, I guess I couldn’t run anymore.

Part: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10.

I spent my first decade and a half of life in white-suburbia. By the time I finished middle school, the white kids still outnumbered the minority kids 3-to-1. And those numbers were after adding together all the black, brown and yellow kids. Since Asians comprise the smallest slice of the minority pie, you could effectively say that I didn’t have much exposure to Asian people, outside of my family and family friends.

Even though I was surrounded by mostly white folks and had mostly white friends, I always knew that I was primarily attracted to Asian girls. From their dark brunette or raven black hair, to their facial features and coltish legs; I simply knew that those were the girls who would someday make me smile with content or scream out with blind rage. I had nothing against the kaleidoscope of lovely girls that crossed my line of sight from day to day, but Asian girls happen to make me tingle in my no-no place. I love all my women equally, but I simply had a preference.

Early on, I realized that these creatures could potentially make me stammer, stutter and act like a simpleton. Given the right girl, my brain would turn to mush as my mouth would utter nonsensical phrases, while my heart would feel like it was about to jump out of my chest.

And one fateful day during my middle school years, a single girl succeeded.

Part: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10.

The humidity in the air felt like rain, but not a cloud was in sight. The mood was gloomy, but it wasn’t supposed to be that way. Standing on the northbound platform with the wind whipping through his hair, he held her close. The smell of a fresh summer breeze, with a hint of vanilla wafted up to his nose and he inhaled deeply, while hugging her tight.

As the train approached, they stood there unmoving, as if their actions could make time stand still. That bubble of silence—where nothing changed—was broken when he heard her move and a sigh escaped her lips. They had known this day would be coming. They had known it all along.

She looked up at him with those soft brown, doe-like eyes. She smiled a small, sweet smile and gazed at him with compassion. It was the same smile that he loved so much. Closing his own eyes, he captured that look in his memory for all time. Leaning his forehead against hers, he took another deep breath and held it. He imagined that if he breathed, she would float away, never to return.

She finally broke away from his hold. Picking up her bag, she shouldered it and he bent to pick up her other ones. She turned and walked toward the train as he followed close behind. The doors waited there, open and inviting. Turning toward him, she grabbed a bag and he held onto her arm. His eyes spoke volumes about the thoughts and feelings that were churning inside his mind. Her eyes misted over and she closed them, quelling the tears that were rising.

She leaned toward him and kissed him. Words that could barely be heard fell from her lips. “No tears. I don’t want to see any tears. Be strong for me.” He nodded and kissed her mouth one last time. A slow, deep kiss that conveyed his love, affection and appreciation for being given the chance to love and be loved.

She picked up the other bag and boarded. Turning around, she looked at him one last time, gazing at him as the doors slowly slid shut in front of her. Before they closed all the way, he shouted,”I will always love you…that I promise.” She gave him a small wave and mouthed,”I love you too…”

As the train pulled away, he started following the train. A walk broke into a run and finally slowed to a stop, knowing that he could not possibly catch a moving train. Looking up at the sky, a plethora of thoughts flew through his mind. As quickly as they had filled his mind, they were gone. A comforting feeling enveloped him and all at once he knew.

He watched his future roll away down the tracks, knowing that one day it would roll back toward him.

When that time came, he would be ready.

Life for rent
Huge neon signs
Lamenting softly
One dollar, two dollars, nine dollars spent
And not one extra red cent

That’s how life works
The rich, the poor, the middle class whores
As we climb the ladder of nevermore
All intent on making spaces
Never just content with taking in faces

Into the silver sea one must dive
Covered with ash, soot and grime
Everything is for rent
Your soul, your love, your time
Don’t tell me it’s for naught

Greenbacks attack your Bimmer or Benz
Clawing at those Christian Dior lens
Trading up makes the world go ’round
Does charity begin, does it make a sound
When is wealth truly a friend

Are we bound and tethered
To that space on the ground
Flapping, fluttering and flying
Do your feet get off the ground
If they are constantly bound

Now, later, alligator
Shackled, bound and tied
Have they not the clarity to see
When will it be
That the world stops renting me

Standing upright, arms wide in mid-flight
Who do I run from in rushing red waves of light
Fleeing blindly along the path that follows
The river of uncertainty, hope and tomorrow

There are mysteries in life accepted as truth
No other such clues available as proof
From simple seedlings relationships sprout
Giving birth to bartenders, experience and doubt

Swiftly we hurry from beginning to end
Not really watching where one might land
Upon a heart our swiftness might tread
Does the resonance feel good when it all goes dead?

Sitting there waiting for an event untold
A change in the wind peppers me with cold
Constantly reminding about those hidden pages
Secreted away, the wisdom of all ages

Myriad of questions flying to and fro
Are there any answers, please don’t say no
All out of time and all out of breath
Bringing closure to the one that’s left

Under a blanket of crystalline shards
Reflective in quality, somewhat like stars
Muted cries to the dark heavens above
For a soul seldom speaks to no one but love