Chris was the most cheerful guy out there. Seriously, I've never met anyone like him. Were you having an awful day? He would sincerely dedicate his time to cheer you up; even if your demons were lurking around, he'd somehow manage to banish them with that excellent radiance of his.
He was extraordinary and a big part of my life.
I grew up in an orphanage. My parents had abandoned me there, making sure that I wasn't gonna ruin their perfect life anymore. I was just a few weeks old. Sounds like the movies, right? Well, there's always a dash of truth in them and plenty of lies. I was one of the fortunate ones, as the place I grew up was quite decent. We weren't starving. We had beds and rooms to sleep in. We weren't abused in any way, and they kept us entertained with books, toys, and even video games; all offered by various charities. However, there were some days that were incomprehensible. I had to watch a total of ten of my closest friends leaving the place while holding hands with their brand-new parents as well and I was forced to witness a couple of them returning a few months later. It was a bitter-sweet feeling, something that a child shouldn't yet experience, the unavoidable abandonment. But life is life and, in the end, it was just me and a whole new bunch of kids and babies. All of my friends were gone and I was desperately waiting for my coming of age to kiss that house goodbye.
In my early teenage years, I met Chris. I was the new kid in class, last year of junior high. He was the class president; always present and available, especially for the newcomers and the minorities. Me? I was that 'emo' kid, sitting at the corner of the class, doodling all over my desk and books considering every possible choice that life was throwing at my path; part-time jobs, evening classes, hobbies; a normal sort of life I had always been dreaming of.
First period ended and that boy approached me casually, introducing himself and asking me to hang out with him during the break. He showed me the school, the library, where I should go if I wanted to escape for the last two hours or where to run off to in case the teachers were after us. He was talking to me like we were old friends reunited after a long absence, and that created a nostalgic and familiar sensation. As an orphan, I had met thousands of kids like me but as the years went by, the majority of them left. It was so easy to talk to him that a part of me was wondering if by chance we had met in that damn place, but we just couldn't remember each other. That would be a nice turn of events, although, at the same time, I was hoping that it wasn't true. Life should have treated this angel much better than me. Eventually, after some warm evening, drinking smoothies, we had an honest and deep conversation. He talked to me about his family, how he was their only son and all the ambitious plans they were forcing him to follow. He then asked about me, reluctantly as the entire school was well-informed regarding my situation. I still talked to him about what being an orphan meant to me and how it shaped me as a human being. He didn't seem to feel pity or sorry towards me and I was grateful for that. We joked, shared a good laugh and that was it. The bond was instant and despite my constant fear of losing him the way I had lost so many friends before; I grew closer and closer to him.
Of course, he didn't realize the importance and depth of my feelings back then. I would look at him and my heart would beat like crazy; I'd feel my cheeks burn all the way to my ears whenever he'd smile or look at me. Whenever we would walk down the halls or leave the school premises together, I'd gently brush my hand against his and he'd just laugh, scolding me with his shoulder playfully. But not even once would he dare confront me about those actions. He was naïve and held a good heart within his chest.
Not everyone, though, was that oblivious. A few guys would look at me, make fun of my background, and even call me names, hoping they'd receive some reaction from my side, provoking me into getting in trouble with the school principal. Alas, I should be the least of their worries. Chris couldn't accept any form of abuse, especially from bullies. He was, after all, the perfect guy to talk and feel safe around. The students knew that, the teachers as well, and of course, the bullies. It was incredible how they'd shut up with just a few words from him, and he'd never, not once, use harmful vocabulary or throw a tantrum. Chris was always kind, sweet, and honest, even during my darkest days…