I’ve got this one friend who seems to control the weather. It’s kind of peculiar–I’ve heard stuff like this happening in fairytales: when a princess cries, it rains. For the year and a half that she’s been in my life, the weather always seems to do something crazy when she cries. I don’t know if it’s because she’s the embodiment of innocence and the sky can feel her emotions and tries to sympathize or if it’s always some weird coincidence. Either way, it’s raining in Burlington today. And she’s been crying all morning.
She’s singlehandedly one of my favorite people here: a beautiful human being with short reddish-dyed hair and a creative mind. She’s a Professional Writing major, like me, and calls herself CaiJo while she tries to figure out a pen name. It’s a combination of her first and middle names–I don’t know if I should say it here, for fear of giving away her identity. We’ve been friends since day one of freshman orientation. By some weird twist of fate, we had most of our classes first semester together.
One of the things I love most about her is her ability to stay strong (most of time) even though her and her boyfriend go to school states apart. She was born in Colorado, grew up in Mexico, and was friends with him for years before finally agreeing to go out with him. And even though I didn’t know her then, I’m glad she said yes. She’s told me stories about how he made her all sorts of stuff in high school and how he’s an engineering major now. He made this one contraption awhile back that, when you plug it in, lights up and says, “I love you CaiJo.”
I’m not even sure how I’d describe her writing. It hints at a romantic style, but at times can be tragic. Specifically, her poetry. I’m not the best at writing poems–she’s got a way of wording things that can simultaneously melt my heart and make me want to weep into a teddy bear. It also makes me wonder what else she’s got stored in her mind. It’s a common stereotype that poets and writers have something going on in their head. Something drastic that’s changed the course of their lives or that affects them every day. Maybe it’s her long-distance relationship. Maybe it’s the fact that her family has moved back to the States from Mexico, the place that was her home for so much of her life.
Or maybe she’s one of the few of us that has nothing but flowers growing in her mind.
Either way, she’s one of the most beautiful people I know–inside and out. And it’s a privilege to be able to read her writing.