Existence || A Collection

01 || A Missing Button

Ever since I began learning how to write my name with those stubby yellow pencils, the concept of loving another person eternally fascinated my younger self that I had to learn more about it. I would read romance stories under the bed sheets, pausing after every seemingly loud page flip that my parents were still asleep.

During circle story time, the teacher read Corduroy, a big red book about a bear searching for his missing button. My best friend Evelyn leans over and whispers, "Jacob is staring at me. Pienso que me ama." I glanced at Jacob, who sat on the across from us in the circle. Jacob's head rested on his palm as he dreamily stared at Evelyn, and his other hand subconsciously drew a heart on the vibrant blue carpet.

The teacher read, "And she carried Corduroy home in her arms."

Another time during recess, I was drawing a smiling girl with brown hair and a pink coat and white mittens on the cracked navy blue pavement. Evelyn ran up to me shoving a red envelope in my face. Her leather black shoes stepping on my chalk drawing. "Look at what Jacob wrote me!"

I unfold the letter, carefully removing the carefully sewn on button keeping the envelope closed. In choppy handwriting, the letter inside read:

Roses are red violets are blue, here is my button to show my love for you.

I smile warmly at her, "It's like the book we read in class yesterday." My eyes flicker to my drawing as she dances on it, her eyes glued to the letter as I hand it back to her.

Evelyn agreed; then, she told me about a dream she had the night before. She dreamed that she and Jacob got married on a beach and she wore a beautiful dress to their wedding. As they grew up, they had two children and eventually became grandparents too.

When she finished telling me about her dream, I smile, almost forgetting about my drawing. "I can't wait to fall in love like you and Jacob."

But she was already walking away to find Jacob. Faded chalk footprints followed her path, stealing the smile from my drawing of the girl.

Years passed and writing my name comes with ease when the last handwriting book is placed on my stack of old writing books. A girl from my homeroom stood next to me in the girls line outside of the bathroom, wiping her wet hands on her paint-covered skirt. She whispered, "He's cute, right?"

I perked up and looked through the disorganized line of boisterous boys in my homeroom standing next to us, "Who?"

"Carlos." The girl giggled.

My eyes settled upon Carlos, a new student who came from the school that shut down last school year. His fluffy brown hair swept across his deep, chocolate-colored eyes. I remember he played football and basketball with all the popular boys.

"Yeah, he's cute." I stated.

"I have a big crush on him," the girl twirled her long hair.

That was the first time I had ever heard that word. I ran to Evelyn about my discovery of this mysterious word and that girl's association of it with Carlos. Evelyn grew excited for me. When he played football with his popular friends at recess, she would nudge my elbow and say, "He's trying to show off his skills for you." One time after Carlos and I were partnered to go over math homework, Evelyn pulled me aside and told me every small detail she noticed about him. How he held eye contact with me for long periods of time and scooting his chair closer to mine whenever he seemed confused about a math problem he got wrong and I got right.