Hi Siggy and friends of the page. My name is Tracy James Jones and I am an indie author, blogger, former actor and artist. I write multicultural romantic drama and I also dabble in screenwriting. My blog: “Let’s Talk About Books”- is a public forum used to showcase, promote, and support all aspects of Independent & Traditional Literary Entertainment, so please feel free to drop by and introduce yourself anytime. I love meeting new author/friends and I am always happy to promote their work on my blog. :o)
Now, in keeping up with the theme Siggy has set for this event, I would like to offer a short piece I wrote that has since been the number one read on my blog, is available as an ebook on Smashwords (free), and has been featured on the Huffington Post as well as other online venues. The greatest achievement for this work is that it was requested by the International Baccalaureate Organization to use in their world-wide middle years education program for language and literature teacher support material for the next 7 years. Thank you much and happy reading! ~ Tracy J.
He touched me... Not in any way lascivious or anything. Just a simple soft brush across and down my shoulder in acknowledgement that he had seen me. No words were spoken. Just the touch. I loved him for that. I always had…
I remember the first time I lay eyes on him. Third grade. It’s funny when you grow up in a small town that you end up knowing certain people your whole life. Can’t say I really knew him, but I knew of him. I fell into him on the playground and that was all it took. Didn’t know then what that feeling was or meant, but I knew on sight that there was something special about him. My innocent admiration of him was immediate. I suppose he didn’t know what that feeling was at the time either, but he saw me, too. He simply smiled. Years later that moment would come back to somewhat haunt me. Back then, I didn’t know that I had just stumbled into my very first crush. Silly me. If my eyes were truly the windows to my soul, I should have had the sense to temper the blinds.
By sixth grade a lot had changed. Especially within me. But I wasn’t the only one. Raging hormones between all the sexes were forcing their way to the surface way beyond leaps and bounds. By then we all knew what that look meant and it was hardly fully innocent. I had blossomed out before my own eyes, and when I saw him, well, that thing from the past was like a burning flame racing throughout my entire being. Call it heat, or passion, or just aching preteen desire to be close to someone who had stolen my childhood heart. It had nothing to do with sex, not really, but something more unnameable. Three years later and just looking at him pulled me back through time. I longed for him. Maybe somewhat physically, but mostly, I just wanted to be near him. Still, he never said a word. But he did smile at me sometimes. Just a friendly gesture, really. He always did that in the passing years. With everything else going on in our young lives, I felt that was more than enough to hold on to. The fact that we had never held a conversation was a minor missing end to the overall means.
And then there was high school. Just the mention of that place can be summed up as pure hell. The world of love, sex, lies, and heartbreak had at one point or another affected nearly all. To me, in this final introduction to adulthood, it hardly made sense to chance your deepest emotions to anyone. But that is exactly what I did. I loved and lost as anyone else. Almost too much. I suffered my despair in the shadows. He was so popular I figured he didn’t have time to notice. Just before we took our final walk into freedom, I heard in a whispered conversation that he had said that he knew me. I didn’t know he even remembered my name.
Class Reunion – Twenty years later. Standing in a crowded room with a bunch of people and faces I could barely recognize. But still, old emotions came rushing back upon me as if my past was flashing before my eyes. And then, across the room, I saw him. Time had been very good to him. When he smiled, I saw that he noticed me too, so I turned and headed in the opposite way. I was cornered by another childhood friend when he moved to touch me. Just a simple soft brush across and down my shoulder in acknowledgement that he had seen me. No words were spoken. Just the touch. I loved him for that. I always had. I guess I always will…