We're only lonely if we choose to be.

He gave me an ebony acorn. I'd never seen one that color before. His name reminded me of a lion and his hooded eyes were reminiscent of a friend back home. We painted, we drafted, and we drew together. I felt naked because he saw my raw ability with its current limitations. But it was an exposure that felt comfortable and correct. His laughter was sincere and its sound resonated with the clarity of goat's hooves on smooth stone. He laughed readily at people's jokes in class. It made them feel witty. It made me happy.

We played hackysac together. It was nearly dusk. Spittle of rain evaporated instantly on our hot flesh and the cool cement. Those eyes of his; electric-blue, like a cool gray cloud alight with lightning, so sauve, so surreal... I wish I could paint them seventy-two ways and draw them four times each Tuesday until I captured their geniality. His hooded eyes reminded me of a friend back home. I wanted to see more of his work, so he could feel as exposed as I was; 'so he could feel how comfortable and correct it was to share something so raw and intimate with another person.