Connections from the Heart (Jenna's Chapbook)

Grade 11 Literary Arts - Chapbooks

“What?” My voice sounded hoarse to my own ears. How hadn’t I noticed her approach? My face was buried in my hands. That’s how. Moments to myself are costly. “Sorry for creeping up on you, you looked upset.” She spoke lightly as if not to scare me. It took a moment to find the words to say to the stranger hovering above me. “I’m good, just thinking.” “You must have some dark thoughts.” She, probably assuming the exchange was a good sign, sat down in the opposing chair. “You have no idea.” I muttered. Smiles turned into frowns, and the stranger’s brows furrowed in concern. I took a moment to study her. She was beautiful. Dark brown eyes looked back at me. My breath hitched and I broke our eye contact. I didn’t know what else to say. Luckily I didn’t have to speak, she came to my rescue. Maybe both of our rescues. “My name is Divya.” She extended her hand. “Ana.” I shook Divya’s hand, then quickly let go. What would the price be?&nbsp;I could only hope Divya would disappear from my life soon, rather than become someone I might hurt. Yes, it would be good to stop this conversation. I didn’t want to get too attached. “So Ana… What were you thinking about?” Divya’s eyes brightened with curiosity. It took a few seconds to decide whether to reply truthfully or not. “Oh, just a book. My favourite character died, so I’ve been kind of sad.” I chose to lie. “Yeah? What book?”

“I can’t tell you that.” “Why not?” “Because I’d be spoiling it.” I didn’t think it was a funny thing to say but Divya laughed. “What are you doing here?” I asked with a little more suspicion than I intended. Divya simply smiled. “You mean why I’m at Bridgehead or what I’m doing with you?” There was a challenge in the remark, daring me to get tangled up in a game. And I would, if it meant I could see her smile again. “I know the answer to the first thing.” I nodded toward the coffee logo on the plastic napkin holder placed on the table. “But I can only guess about the second.” “Do you often guess correctly?” Divya mused. “Yes.” The word escaped my lips in a wisp, an air of vulnerability in the tone of my voice. Was this the fear of being seen? It was too late. I like her. I just don’t want to hurt her. I came here for a reason though, to find my equal. Why couldn’t Divya be that person? Finally, Divya broke the silence. “Do you wanna get out of here? Walk somewhere?” “Sure.” Who was this woman? How had we known each other for no more than a few minutes, and yet I never wanted to lose her. All this might backfire on both of us, but I can’t help but feel some hope. A relationship might actually work out for me. “Let’s go.” I pushed back my chair and let my hand be taken.&nbsp;

ÉMIL (He sits up and leans against the tree, sitting farther away from ALIYAH than last time) I don’t know if I can. ALIYAH (Looking away) I’m sorry.&nbsp; ÉMIL Don’t be. Short pause. ÉMIL I’ll get her back. We’ll get Sofia back. ALIYAH (Softly) Émil, it’s not that simple.&nbsp; ÉMIL How do you know?&nbsp; ALIYAH Because. ÉMIL We don’t keep secrets, Aliyah. Not from each other.&nbsp; ALIYAH Do you really wanna know? ÉMIL Yes. Whatever it is.&nbsp;

ALIYAH In March, Sofia invited me to her house. For a sleepover. And… (ÉMIL looks at her expectantly) It was my fault. She told me. Sofia said, “I like you.” And not in the platonic way. She asked me out cause she didn’t think it was fair to date you and like me. It was you or her. (Beat) Don’t hate me, okay? ÉMIL (Meets her gaze) Never, Aliyah. You chose me.&nbsp;

How am I here? On the edge of this mountain and this relationship. We’re staring up at the sky rather than each other. But it feels right this way. It’s not simply looking into the soul of another, it’s feeling it too. The sun kisses my skin with colours of beet and grapefruit, as well as the ever increasing darkness akin to the shade of the deep blue ocean. I see her in the beautiful sunset and I know she's seeing me in it too. What happened to the days where we would talk and talk and never run out of things to say? I don’t miss them. I know she doesn’t either. They’re how we got here; to this point where silence is comfortable and welcoming. So many conversations exist in our heads now, through our eyes we transfer our thoughts. Words have limits but our communication does not. Who allowed me to know and love the angel at my side. Her with her soft skin and affectionate presence. The sweet smile she flashes, the one that slowly inches across her face, constantly incites warmth in my chest. The feathery brush of her fingers against my hands, my legs, my arms. Those are all things I’d miss. Once she’s gone. And she’ll be gone soon. Much too soon. I ask myself again, how am I here?

Need to tell you I don’t wanna be&nbsp; your friend Need to tell you But words fall through me Sometimes I feel&nbsp; my heart will overflow Lay your hands on me And I'd give up forever to touch you Need to tell you I wanna be yours

I got addicted&nbsp; to a losing game And&nbsp; nothing's going to happen So perhaps I should leave&nbsp; here A place&nbsp; where I don't feel alone Run away&nbsp; Turn away&nbsp; Run away But I can't let you go I don't want to&nbsp; say goodbye You say the words that I can’t say I wanna be yours

I don't want this&nbsp; feeling to go away Run away Turn away I don’t No sun is shining anymore I wanna be yours I wanna be somebody to someone Someone like you Need to tell you I'm falling even more&nbsp; in love with you I wanna be yours

I Wanna Be Yours is composed of language from the following songs:

Supercut by Lorde Sober by Lorde Mr Loverman by Ricky Montgomery&nbsp; This Is The Day by The The I Ran by A Flock of Seagulls Cupid’s Chokehold / Breakfast In America by Gym Class Heroes I Wanna Be Yours by Arctic Monkeys To Build A Home by The Cinematic Orchestra&nbsp; Never Gonna Give You Up by Rick Astley The Story by Brandi Carlile good 4 u by Olivia Rodrigo In My Veins by Andrew Belle In Too Deep by Sum 41 Used To by J Rozzi The Promise by When In Rome I Wanna Be Your Girlfriend by girl in red when the party’s over by Billie Eilish Falling Slowly by Glen Hansard Hello by Lionel Richie Lay Your Hands On me by Thompson Twins Iris by The Goo Goo Dolls&nbsp; Arcade by Duncan Laurence She’s So High by Tal Bachman Hold Me Now by Thompson Twins Smalltown Boy by Bronski Beat Gimme Love by Joji Sofia by Clairo Bizarre Love Triangle by New Order Upside Down by Jack Johnson Stolen Dance by Milky Chance Someone to You by BANNERS Use Somebody by Kings of Leon Hanging By A Moment by Lifehouse

I was sitting in the café quite aware of everything. Some people were chatting away, ignoring what was going on around them. Others were sitting with a cup of coffee in hand, a phone or a book in the other. Still even the quieter ones were not paying attention. I watched them all. They never noticed the stares, the soulful eyes trying to intuit every face, every thought, all of their mannerisms. I wasn’t sure how this had become a common practice. Perhaps I was looking for something. Or maybe someone?&nbsp;No, the idea of a person. I wanted to find a person just like myself. Though no one was like me. It was a search for searching eyes. Trying to find someone staring back. I&nbsp;leaned my head against the cold table, allowing myself to stop looking. The loss of sight did not cease my contemplations. Why did loneliness plague me every day? It was what I wanted, right? To not have to worry about others. Did I forget I needed people too? A soft rapping at the table returned me to the real world. A beautiful woman about my age stood gazing down on me. Her brown skin gleamed in the sunlight shining through the windows. The woman smiled at me warmly and to my surprise I felt my mouth return the expression. I never smiled. “Are you okay?”

When I walked into the auditorium, how could I have known that hours later, weeks later, years later, I’d still be relieving the events of that night. It’s not like something horrible happened, although I may have labelled it that way at the time. For someone who was so set in their own identity, the Pandora's box of feelings that opened up from a simple touch, was too much to control. All I did was sit a little too closely to a girl. I walked into the room not knowing where to go but her grin guided me to the empty seat next to hers. “Hey, do you wanna sit next to me?” She asked in a friendly voice with a raspy undertone, waving me over. That voice was the most alluring thing about her. Hesitantly, I began walking up the carpeted stairs to place myself on her immediate left. I had to squeeze by the bony knees of strangers, trying to make myself small in order to evade their unwanted touch, before finally being able to claim my spot.&nbsp;

My body felt awkward in the uncomfortable seat, like an adult sitting on a chair meant for a child. It was not until the lights dimmed and the stage glowed that I finally began to feel at ease. There was something calming about being swallowed by the blackness of the large room, the sense that someone is watching you disappears and you can be yourself. Darkness allows you to do things you could never do in the light. The moments to come would be the start of a journey I wasn’t prepared for. Perhaps, I knew then, what I was, who I was, as much as I didn’t want to admit it; it was actually years before I could. To say the words aloud, the ones that leaped to the surface of my mind, screaming to be let out that night. It’s easy to be ignored by the crowd, but more difficult to shake off the presence of those next to you, and hers burned like the flames from a fire. Her body was closer to mine than it had been since I’d sat down. Every so often our knees bumped together, I wondered if she thought anything of it. I certainly did. The casual graze of her leg against mine tore my attention away from the stage. At some point our knees touched and didn’t pull apart. My whole being was reduced to the exact point where the denim of our jeans met. I couldn’t think of anything else. Her proximity didn’t bother me, if anything I wanted a lot more. Those thoughts alone struck themselves as odd to me. How could all the emotions I felt been caused just because of some girl? I’d say to myself now, how could they not?&nbsp;

"And then I realized that it was fear—fear that no one would ever truly understand me and move every part of me. The only relationships I'd ever known felt like bargaining and settling: bargaining for space to be free, settling for a partner who didn't wonder what I was up to. I wanted someone to see all of me, the good and the bad." 

Page 145, We Have Always Been Here: A Queer Muslim Memoir by Samra Habib

ALIYAH - female, 17, analytical and sarcastic, quick to stand up for what she believes in ÉMIL&nbsp; - male, 18, proud and dramatic, likes to wallow in his feelings

Two friends lying down on the grass in a park beneath a tree. ALIYAH is resting with a book in her hands, and ÉMIL is staring at the clouds.&nbsp; ÉMIL (Pointing to the sky) Hey Aliyah, that one looks like Sofia’s dog, right? ALIYAH (She doesn’t look up from her book) Sure… ÉMIL That didn’t sound very affirming. ALIYAH (She shrugs) Sorry.&nbsp; ÉMIL (Sits up quickly) Wait! Oh my god. Do you remember that time, after the winter dance? ALIYAH (Puts her book down) How did you go from Sofia’s dog to that?&nbsp; ÉMIL My brain works fast. (Smirks) Sofia and I stole so much candy and chips. The Gatorade! You were acting so uptight, per usual. (Laughs). We didn’t get in trouble though.&nbsp; ALIYAH Émil, you act so smug while describing how you broke the law.&nbsp; ÉMIL One of us has to be the happy one. ALIYAH Can’t we be Grumpy and Grumpier?

These ribbons wrap me up Every ribbon you used to tie yourself to me The ways that you say my name The sun&nbsp; shining down on you If that ain't love&nbsp; then I don't know&nbsp; what love is I wanna be yours This is a place&nbsp; where I don't feel alone We know the game and&nbsp; I was made for you The only person who&nbsp; ever got you Oh you’re&nbsp; in my veins in too deep I want you to&nbsp; want me like I do I wanna be yours

She watched him every day. Observing his daily routine. Ten year-old Lucy held within her a curiosity about everything; always poking her head in places it did not belong. Ears pressed flat against locked doors, feet padding softly through forbidden halls, and fingers always wringing the golden rope. Seemingly, it was only ever seen by her. The golden rope was her yellow brick road. Before school, Lucy could be found obstinately standing in the kitchen, a meter away from the foyer where she watched him descend the glass staircase. With her supple hands gripping the rope, she pulled. From one end of the strand to the other. Skin to leather. For Lucy, the rope connected Papa to her. Her days spent longingly gazing after the briefcase secured in his fist, seconds before the clanging that echoed through the walls of the house blocked her view of Papa’s pinstripe suit. Never a word of goodbye would fall from his lips. Her mother ushered an ill-tempered Lucy to school for five days a week. No matter where little Lucy went, the golden rope stayed firmly attached to her wrist; and because of that, she was not alone. In hopes Papa found his way back to her, she pulled.&nbsp;

When Lucy turned sixteen, she became the one to drive herself to school. A pair of rough hands clutching the steering wheel, a new leather. A new normal. The golden rope frayed between her fingers. She had stopped pulling—although she was too set in her ways to cease the tradition of watching her Father leave the house every morning. Briefcase. Pinstripe. Door slam. Questions rushed through Lucy’s mind as she wished she knew who he was. A feeling of guilt overcame her after her Father lost his colour and mobility. So Lucy ventured upstairs, to go from one bed to another more forlorn one. Under the linen sheets, her Father laid painlessly, an intravenous needle perforating his skin. The briefcase rested on the hardwood beside the bed. There was an expression in his eyes she was unable to identify, then her Father said, I love you. Lucy stared at him. Why did you never show it? Why do I miss something that I never had? Between skin and leather the golden rope snapped. Not a single tear fell from her eyes as the connection was severed. She watched Papa go.&nbsp;

Letters to Love Two Sides, Same Story

I feel like I am in love Or as close to it as anyone can be. Could it be possible that somebody is there for me?&nbsp; Minutes become months&nbsp; And the affection has not gone away All thoughts turn to him. My mind attuned to him.&nbsp; I fear losing the connection one day.

I have never felt loved Not to any romantic degree.&nbsp; Could it be possible that nobody will incite a light in me?&nbsp; Time ticks onward And I have no pretty passions to convey My mind misses myself. Who I used to be when&nbsp;&nbsp; my apathy for love did not bother me each day.&nbsp;

Thank you to my friends whose connections I have with them led to the creation of this Chapbook. I'd like to give a special thanks to my Lit teacher this year, Ms. Dobson and thank you to the entirety of the 2022 Lit class for helping me through this process.

“Frayed Rope about to Break.” Hospital News, 2 Sept. 2015 Tahhan, Norma. “Sunset on the Bay Drawing.” Saatchi Art, 2018

ÉMIL What reason do you have to be upset?&nbsp; ALIYAH You’ve projected all your internalized negative emotions onto me, clearly. ÉMIL Ha. Ha. (Pause) But tell me what’s wrong? You already know what’s up with me: The breakup.&nbsp; ALIYAH It’s nothing. I’m fine.&nbsp; ÉMIL Everyone who says they’re fine is lying, even I know that.&nbsp; She is quiet. Look, you’ve been acting strange, not just today. All week actually.&nbsp; ALIYAH I didn’t think you noticed. ÉMIL That’s offensive.&nbsp; They both laugh. After a few seconds ALIYAH speaks.&nbsp; ALIYAH (Softly) You weren’t the only one who lost someone. I feel— ÉMIL Like you broke up with a friend.&nbsp;

ALIYAH (She looks at him, shocked) Yeah.

ÉMIL I knew you guys hung out. Without me. I’m glad you did. Couldn’t keep a girl like that all to myself. (He scoots over to her spot on the tree throwing an arm around ALIYAH, smiling) My best friend and girl—(His face falls) ex-girlfriend. I guess I forgot that Sofia leaving… would affect us both.&nbsp; ALIYAH You were her boyfriend Émil. I’m not that affected. (Shrugging him off) Go back to cloud gazing.&nbsp; ÉMIL (He makes a big show of standing up and ‘sadly’ walking back to his cloud gazing spot, sighing loudly as he lies down. There’s a long pause.) Why do you act like this whenever I talk about Sofia? I know it’s more than what you say.&nbsp; ALIYAH It’s got nothing to do with me. ÉMIL Right…&nbsp;And it was some other Aliyah who said, “You weren’t the only one who” blah blah blah.&nbsp; ALIYAH I shouldn’t have told you that.&nbsp; ÉMIL I would've figured it out.&nbsp; ALIYAH (Sighs) I just want you to get over her. So you can be happy and we can all move on.

I want to be seen. I want someone kind to perceive me and not for it to be a figment of my mind to perceive me. I want to be understood, the way the days and nights respect their rhythm. Our souls combined to perceive me.&nbsp; I want to be accepted for every corner of my being, where the darkest parts of myself gather, not resigned to perceive me.&nbsp; I want to know the warmth and scorch of the spark titled firework. An intimate interaction designed to perceive me.&nbsp; I want to shout until I get an answer from above&nbsp; And know: I will not be the only one assigned to perceive me.

He called me on the phone the other day and I almost didn’t answer. I mean, there wasn’t really any particular reason why I didn’t feel like picking up. Sometimes, phone calls stress me out. Who knows why? It’s weird ‘cause being with him in-person doesn’t. Face to face I can play off of his energy. Visual cues and all that. Maybe it’s like the awkward pauses as you both try to think of what to say. Or the fact that phone calls are usually unexpected, and most of the time when I hear that ring, my brain immediately goes into negative mode. But I did answer. I shouldn't have. In this case, it was one of those moments where the thing you worry about does happen. I thought things between us, Kenny and I, were fine. Coming from me, I guess, that’s not saying much. He didn’t necessarily attack me, no—that’s not what Kenny does—but as soon as I hit answer and he started speaking (pause), I knew something was wrong. There was a hint of hostility in his voice, a tone that didn’t quite match the pleasantries we exchanged at the beginning of the conversation.&nbsp;

The first thing I asked was, “Why are you calling me?” Which isn’t antagonistic, that’s just how I am. People need reasons to do things. Kenny either needed to tell me about some drama in his life that he wanted my opinion on, out of all people, or he had a problem… with me. He kinda evaded the question, which was a bad sign, because usually people don’t put off good news, in fact, it’s pretty difficult to keep good things under wraps. Kenny wasn’t hiding any secrets from me, he was just bottling up his emotions toward me. And no, not in a romantic way. No one likes me like that. People usually stay clear of me. We caught up for a bit; he had a lot more to share than I did. What would I talk about with him? ‘Oh yeah, something really exciting happened the other day, I umm, left the house!’ I’d never say shit like that. (Beat) I don’t leave the house. My parents don’t care, why would they? I have friends. A singular friend. Kenny is the only person who ever comes to see me. At first I thought it was annoying, but you know it grew on me. I’m… (pause) I don’t know how I feel. He called ‘cause he felt undervalued by me. As my best friend, I guess. I sorta saw it coming. He didn’t need to ramble in my ear for half an hour in his attempt to not make me feel guilty. Kinda ironic. Since Kenny was the one who’s more upset, but there he was, trying to protect my feelings. I guess we’re close enough for him to know I actually have them. There are some things I care about. Like Kay, my turtle… Kenny? Uh. My parents, occasionally. Some book characters. All of this is beside the point. The point is Kenny repressed the fact that he felt under appreciated in our friendship, until he called. Do I feel bad about how I’ve treated him? I guess. But I can’t help it. It’s so stupid how we can be so self-aware but not do anything about it. I put him out of his misery and just straight up said, “You’re right. I’m gonna hang up now.” I did. Probably wasn’t a very tactful response but, whatever. Should I have added something about how I’m sorry and appreciate him? Probably, I don’t wanna lose him. Would he ever leave me? No, I don’t think so. I know him too well.&nbsp;

Name

Safari may block some audio or video from playing automatically and ‘read to me’ will skip these. You can configure this in Safari’s preferences.