...Because Life is Not One Single Genre

Golden Boy

Genre: Romance

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Being a writer isn't easy. He always told me that.

Here I am, seated at my desk, waiting for some type of idea I can expand on to write about. I can think about those summer days, the golden sun on the horizon, heat traveling from my head to my toes, spreading like the wildfires California knows so well. I can imagine the way people feel, going about their day and wondering if they are putting on a mask to get through it all. Kind of like mine right now. I can remember my own experiences, the ups and downs, my tragedies and successes.

Despite all of this, the writing part remains difficult. Living in a world full of details and inspirations for writing is not as easy as it seems. They're like deep sea treasures that we have to dive for to obtain. He told me that, too.

Our past was kind of cliché, but to me it was perfect. Of course, nothing that is perfect can last too long. He was my first love, and I his. It makes me giggle like a schoolgirl when I think about our romance. Sometimes, I feel embarrassed by how soft I can get at the slightest thought of his smile. Nowadays I look out the window like if I'm in some damned music video, questioning the path that life has put me on.

I sat back from my laptop, the bright blank page staring back at me with a sort of pressure. The vase of the sweet-smelling daffodils I had on my desk that were usually refreshing had no aid for me this time. I can't think of anything, and the frustration's getting to me. I have to write this story. I want to write this story, but my mind is elsewhere, years ago, at a time when my life was just beginning to shape itself.

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I met Dennis in the summer before my senior year of college. He was an exchange student from Europe, and quickly became popular with the girls. I had heard that he was one of the handsomest boys in school, beating out Paul from Sigma Nu. However, seeing him for the first time was a surprise, as he was not what I expected at all. I had pictured the typical "gym-bro" type of guy. Wasn't that what most girls liked back in those days? But Dennis was tall, semi-muscular, and his style reminded me of something from the 70's. His golden locks fell a little ways past his shoulder, and he looked real cool with his old school aviator shades on, that damned Marlboro cigarette dangling from his mouth. He quickly became known as the Golden Boy.

We officially met via mutual friends, and quickly got along. It was then that I found out that Dennis was from a UK city called Canterbury. However, Dennis longed for a city with an exciting nightlife, and hoped to find that nightlife here, in the smoggy slums of Long Beach, California.

As our group began to really adopt him in, group meetings turned into casual hangouts. Casual hangouts turned into dates, and eventually we became "a thing" as we used to put it back then. He was a musician; I, of course, a writer. A cliché in itself, but we were able to help each other out. One of the many times that I had writer's block, we were in my dorm where I had just snapped my laptop shut, plunked myself on my bed, and accepted defeat. He told me, "Go out into the world, Nat, and observe it. Really observe it. Channel those feelings, imagine the feelings of other people, the side effects of life that they may be experiencing. Build on it. Make it your own, show us the worlds that we long for." Something like that, but it doesn't sound as deep as the way he would say it. The advice he gave always sounded like wisdom beyond his years, and all of this profound advice was the same he used himself when he wanted to write a song.

I remember that conversation well, when he moved from the floor to my bed and casually lay his head on my lap, still lost in thought. He'd stay one more hour before he left for his dorm. I remember the feel of his sun-kissed hair, like silk against my fingertips, the smell of the cheap cheese pizza that was half eaten on the desk in front of us. The soft glow of my roommate's small TV danced on the walls, Lucille Ball on the screen presenting Vitameatavegemine. Time seemed to slow, and being with him then was like floating in the air among the starry sky in a warm summer's night.