A Fine Day

A fine day indeed. I managed through my first tutoring session for a high school freshman who's both charming and reticent. His features are those that attract girls with hearts ready to bloom. It's not hard to guess how few in his school can resist him, how countless love shall be unanswered and how he enjoys the privilege of secret admiration. The moment my eyes were laid on him, emerging in my heart was a feeling of protection for the boyish little soul. Five years ahead, I already felt how time had consumed my youth in exchange for the better part of the future. Sometimes, I envy him for all the graces God puts in him----the blessed one, I believe, he is so called. His reticence annoyed me at times, making me feel unworthy of myself, blended with a sense of guilt, shame, rejection and indignity. A short presence of admiration would throw me into exaltation, that he did show for a short period of time with a few words. I never thought I could be aroused feelings of such complexity, a true Dorian Gray, I might say, if he is to enter the world pure and innocent. He has the most delicate smile with a face of perfect symmetry. Rose bud lips and snow white face are merely understatement of his good look. I started to grasp how Byron can see someone who walks in beauty like the night. His reticence, faint smile and untainted purity project through him to the clean dark sky and shine like fiery stars. Everything about him sparkles and I find in him the brotherhood I've been longing for. But I should stop.
At night, I dined out with Mr. Goat for the first time after nearly one and a half year. With an extra roommate as a company, it didn't make it any easier for me to look into his eyes. There was something peculiar in them that touched my heart, seeking seams to seep through and corrupt the core of my very emotion. My tendency to avoid his presence had formed in me what the behaviorists might call the perfect habits. Had I been more careful, I'd have known how much in appearance he had changed. My imagination had so absurdly beautified him image that I, at times, were disappointed when observing his face in details. His hair was badly done; his eyes were heavily disagreeable with his glasses and his cheeks thinned and hollowed. The protruding cheekbones suggested a curve of distance. Perhaps my love for him had indeed come to an end. What seemed to me a handsome and gentle Jason before was now a vulgar schoolman in a vulgar university. I was no longer thwarted by him being in a relationship with a girl I know not who. My pretended indifference had now become utter ignorance of his well-being. I was glad to see his conscious drawback when he tried to reach out to me. Embarrassing as it is, I enjoyed it as a worthy triumph. For I seek new meaning of life, I closed the door to love for now.
There are certain types of love that endure not the everlasting power of Time. Surely mine for him is one among them.