The Stranger

12 Apr

­Carlos Andres Gomez one of my favorite poets just told me I only have 60 seconds to live

And I could only take one memory with me

“Which will it be?” he says

Then the flashbacks start and my head hurts as I see my memories unfold in front of me

Will it be of my dad

A handsome noble man who had nothing in his name but love to give me and my brothers

And tried his best to raise this awkward girl?

No not that one

Or one of my grandmother?

A beautiful strong woman who figured after seven kids she is done raising them

But saw the fate of laid before us

So she decided to change our fate in order to keep us together

Whom worked harder to keep a roof and food in our bellies so we won’t know the pain of hunger again

No…that not it

What about my younger brothers?

Four sweet and innocent young men over towering their older sister whom sometimes forget that they are the little ones

The only thing that was constant in my childhood and though we are growing up and apart

I still love them

No…that’s not right either

What about of my friends?

Who know almost everything about me the only ones I hardly ever hide anything from

Their warm friendship I obtain after years of hate and solitude

They showed me the true meaning of friendship and what fun really is

No….there are too many memories trying to figure it out is much harder than it seems

And I feel like giving up how can I possibly take only one?

When there is so many?

Then I see it a man with dyed blonde hair

His roots turning his natural dark brown color

Studying a picture book I made while holding his left hand to his heart

Wait…rewind…it goes back to that night my last day in Toronto

I was soaked from head to toe looking for this golden griddle restaurant

Sad cause I just seen a distance memory on a passerby face who looked like a dead friend

Losing half my art supplies

Haven’t actually eat anything from being sick for an entire week

Feeling like an outcast in a group of kind people who are all going to the same place

Yeah I couldn’t possibly see how worse or better this day can get

Then I see him bent down in front of me taking lyrics of familiar sounding monitors

And suddenly my shittacular day doesn’t seem so shittacular

“Who is he?” Carlos says

“A stranger who only up until now I’ve seen.”

Then I start to question myself why out of all my memories does this one stand out?

Tim Horton’s 1:00 am everyone is saying their good-byes

He over hears a conversation me and his friend are having

“So you’re leaving tomorrow.”

“Yes sir.”

“Wait what?!?! Why?!?!”

“I have been here for a week and I have a show on Sunday so they need me for set up tomorrow night.”

He throws his arms around me holding me to the point of suffocation my ribs hurt so damn much

“I can’t breath” I tell him

And at this point I really want to know what was he thinking because of letting me go

So I can get some you know something called oxygen he instead tells me

“It happens that way sometimes.”

I laugh and I’m lost for words trying to figure out what the hell was he thinking

Any tighter and I’m afraid my ribs might break



“Seriously let me go cause I can’t breath you’re holding me too tight.”

He looks at me smiles, his gaze soft, and I can’t help but feeling at peace.

I can’t begin to understand why this one out of all of them but I say;

“Carlos, I think I’ll take this memory with me.”

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Posted by on April 12, 2011 in Free Write


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