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…
Contact:
1 comment:
Hi James, what a touching piece. Very well written. Love it.
But how can you stop it at that? Did they kiss...or marry?
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