Souza 1

Natalie Souza

Dr. HH

Senior English Seminar

December 8, 2017

Enough

He was red. I was blue. And I loved him for that. I loved the way he lived each

day with a fiery conviction; the way he lived so passionately, always taking risks and

soaking in every last drop of life this world had to offer. He blazed through life and

radiated from within. It was his soul that held this pit of fire that drove him to

recklessly take life at full speed, never taking a second to look back. This same fire

could be seen in his eyes, especially when he laughed. They lured you in with their

enchanting glow and filled you with a comforting warmth that felt like home. They

were the kind of eyes you could stare into for hours; they were the kind of eyes you

couldnt believe were staring into yours.

Yes he was red, and I was blue, but he loved me for that very same reason. He

said he loved the way I quietly observed life, always considering the different angles

of each situation before immersing myself fully. I was not red; I was not a risk taker.

He laughed at the way I stressed over little details he was so quick to rush on by and

he teased me about how meticulous I was with my work. We were so different, but

he was exactly what I needed. He saved me. He saved me from the same person who

kept knocking myself down: me. He showed me the light in the world and made me

realize the own beauty in myself.

 Souza 2

And thats why it worked. Because he was red and I was blue, and together

we created a love that was purple. And for a while it was beautiful; we were

beautiful. Just as I was charmed by the fire in his eyes, he was enamored by the

coolness of my touch. Like two poles of a magnet we were drawn to one another,

connected by a force we thought was unbreakable.

Our love was a teenage love. It was fresh, it was new and it moved fast,

maybe too fast. Nonetheless, I was captivated by our simple love. It was two years of

driving aimlessly around town, me in the passenger seat of his Chevy K-10, laughing

as he sang to Crazy Girl by Eli Young Band at the top of his lungs, though he hardly

could sing on key. It was two years of goofing off, falling asleep under the dining

room table that we had made into a fort or driving to the grocery store on a

Wednesday night to buy Cinnamon Toast Crunch for dinner, just because. It was two

years of carefree love.

But then one day he changed. He no longer wanted a love that was purple.

Instead he wanted a love that was orange. Terrified that I would lose him, I

desperately tried to give him the love that he wanted; I tried to turn my own self

yellow. Bit by bit I began to change myself, trying to emulate the new qualities he

now sought. I wanted to make him happy, to see that fire in his eyes. But now his

eyes were dull, and it seemed that nothing I would do could spark that flame. But

still I tried. I tried day and night to be the person he wanted me to be. I tried until he

finally told me it wasnt enough, that I wasnt enough. I tried until I realized that

after all this time of trying to please him I had lost myself.
 Souza 3

It was late May and Kris had been taking a boating class for the past few

weeks. On the day he would be taking the exam for his license, I decided I wanted to

do something for him that would make him smile. I did not want to do anything

expected. No, I was going to do something more charismatic, more cheery. So I

drove to my local convenience store and bought a large pack of multi-colored post-it

notes. On each one I wrote the most corny love note I could think of. I then drove to

the pond where his Chevy was parked and covered the worn-out black surface with

the colorful array of silly, light-hearted love notes. Taking a step back and admiring

the work I had done, I was filled with excitement. I couldnt wait to see him smile or

hear his breathy laugh. But that wasnt what happened. Instead, with forty minutes

until he got back, I drove around to pass the time, but was gone just a few minutes

too long. When I got to the pond, his truck was completely bare and each and every

note was crumpled up into the garbage. And in that moment, I froze. I could not get

out of my car. I could not face him. I just stared blankly ahead at the old black Chevy

and felt the weight of reality sink into my bones; Even when I tried so desperately to

make him smile, my acts of love were nothing more to him than scraps of paper

crumpled up in the trash.

As I drove away, I couldnt drown out the voice screaming inside my head,

what went wrong? I realized it happened in phases, him slowly falling out of love

with me. It started with his time, the time he no longer could spare on me. I was

disappointed, but I understood. He had responsibilities. He had his priorities, and I

had to accept that I simply could not be one in the crazy life he lived.
 Souza 4

Each holiday break Kris gave me the same excuse: he had too much work and

could not spare the time to see me. After months of not seeing him, I tried to come

up with any reason to spend a fraction of time with him. So when he told me he had

work to do around the house, I would tell him I was going to Dunkin and asked if he

wanted me to pick him up something, to which he always replied no. Are you sure?

Id ask again, trying to hide the desperation in my voice, Its really no big deal. No.

Im fine. I gotta go now anyways.

Other days he had too many errands to run. Can I come with? I really just

want to see you, Id say. I know, I want to see you too, but I just like to do things on

my own, hed reply, forgetting the countless times we had run errands together in

the past two years.

Most days he was too tired, or had already made plans, it switched from day

to day. Once in a while he said he just needed some time alone to relax, and a few

times he wanted to go back to visit his friends at school who he spent every day of

the semester with. And then there were the nights when one of our friends would

have a party. These parties usually fell on the night before I had fly back to school,

meaning I was sober and had to leave early. I wouldnt see Kris the entire night until

just before I was about to leave. As I pulled my keys out of my purse, he would

stumble into my arms, beer on his breath, telling me he loved me and that next

break we would spend more time together. And I believed him.

But then he stopped doing the things that had made me fall so hopelessly in

love with him in the first place. He stopped singing to me in truck. He stopped calling

me beautiful when he kissed me goodbye. He stopped pretending to get mad at me

 Souza 5

when I would tease him, giving me a side glance with squinted eyes, eyelids

fluttering, and lips slightly parted. He stopped teasing me back. He stopped reaching

for my hand when I became stressed. He stopped saying that he loved me. He

stopped being him, and eventually, he simply stopped being there. And thats when

it all fell apart, when I fell apart. How was I supposed to go about my life when my

identity was defined so deeply by him?

It was a few days before my younger sisters birthday and we were having

family over to celebrate. I told Kris I would really love for him to come, and after

initially telling me he was too busy, he finally said he would be there, though he

would have to show up late. I was ecstatic. We would finally get to spend some

quality time together. When he walked into my backyard, I could feel my whole

body swell with excitement. I wrapped my arms around his waist tightly, tilted my

head upwards, grinning, and told him how glad I was he was here.

When the party was over and the last of my family had left, Kris turned to me

and asked if I wanted to go for a walk. I quickly agreed, happy he was making a

suggestion of how we should spend our night together. We walked up my street to

the park where I spent countless afternoons growing up. We were the only two

people there and sat down on the swings. As I swung my legs back and forth,

propelling myself higher and higher into the air, I felt a surge of joy sweep over me. I

excitedly talked about all the things we could do this summer: bonfire nights out in

the field, day trips to the beach, Sunday drives around the reservoir- we had three

whole months to finally spend together.

 Souza 6

I dont remember how long I rambled on, swinging higher and higher, until I

finally realized Kris feet were planted firmly on the ground. I kicked my feet against

the dusty woodchips, disrupting my momentum. When my body finally came to a

stop, I turned towards him and I knew; none of these plans were going to happen. I

could see the sorrow in his eyes as he told me things had changed too much. He said

that part of him felt like he was making the biggest mistake of his life, but there was

also a part of him that thought that if we werent meant to be together, why are we

wasting our time now?

As I looked into his eyes, which were now dampened with tears, I couldnt

help but marvel at the way they shimmered, almost in the same way they did when

he laughed. I was taken back to every midnight drive wed taken together, every

goodbye kiss wed had, every lazy afternoon curled up next to one another. I was

taken back to the days before I knew I loved him and the moments where I knew for

sure. Every smile, every laugh, every moment of playful banter, they were there in

his eyes, the eyes that had been looking back into mine in all the memories I held so

desperately onto. Please tell me its okay, he said, taking my hands into his and

pulling me so close into his chest I left traces of smeared mascara on his shirt. Its

okay, I replied automatically, not comprehending the words as they slipped from

my lips. But it was not okay. I was not okay.

Without him in my life I became white, the absence of color. I was hollow.

After months of twisting and torturing myself to fit his ideals I had become numb to

the pain. And with this numbness, I seemed to have lost my ability to feel happiness.

This time in my life was marked by endless drives to undetermined destinations.

 Souza 7

Overwhelmed by the emptiness he had left behind, I would get in my car, crank the

radio up to some obscene volume and drive, this time completely alone. It was an

escape, an escape from the ever-present image of his smile that haunted my

memories. I let the loud rhythms and harmonies drown out my unrelenting

thoughts, feeling the pulse of the bass sync with the beating of my heart, beating

faster and faster with each new song that came on. I drove until I finally could not

distinguish the beat of the song from that of my heart, until I had let my pain melt

away into a numbness I could try to handle all on my own. For months I went on like

this, going through the motions of life, never consciously experiencing them. The

image of red always lingered in my mind and every time I closed my eyes, I was

reminded of his fire. I could see his hazel eyes glistening like embers and I could feel

the warmth of his hand wrapped around mine as he traced the lines of my palm. Day

and night I played back the last moments we had together and was reminded that I

wasnt enough. I was a waste of time.

It started out as a routine drive, radio blasting, nowhere to go, until I hit I-95

and knew exactly where I needed to be. As soon as I hit the Old Lyme exit, I began to

feel everything slow down. I turned off the blasting music and felt my heartbeat

slowly begin to steady, and when I finally caught sight of the beach, my entire body

seemed to relax. As soon as my feet hit the sand, I became hyperaware of everything

around me. I felt the hot grains of sand prick at my feet like hot needles, the salty air

pulse against my skin, and the cool sea breeze flutter through my unruly hair. When

I reached the shore, and my toes met the icy water, my entire body was awakened

with a fresh excitement.

 Souza 8

For a moment I just stood there, eyes closed, facing the sun. I listened to the

waves crashing against the rocks and land, fizzling as they started to foam and die

away. Above me, I heard the cry of the seagulls scrounging for food. And in the

distance, I heard the faint laughter of children playing in the sand. All these sounds

surrounded me, and for the first time in a long time, my hectic thoughts faded away.

I was alone, yes, but I also felt so light, as if I could float away on the sweet ocean

breeze. For the first time in months when my eyes scanned all around me, I was not

overwhelmed by the image of red, but rather I was welcomed by the gentle embrace

of blue. It was the same blue that painted the walls of my soul, the same blue he

could never take away from me.

And so for the second time, he helped me discover my own beauty: the first

realization happening in his presence, and the second in his absence. He destroyed

me and saved me at the same time. Although the absence of his fire seemed to chill

my entire body, I soon realized I did not need him to create light, for I had it within

myself. No, my flames were not red, they were blue and they were hotter and

stronger. Though his life was filled with reckless passion, my own was filled with

unwavering compassion. And that is enough. That is more than enough.