Joaquin's Journal

Written in the inner cover: for those of you who are reading this after I’m gone, I bare you my deepest thoughts and my most intimate stories.

Dec 6th 1974

It’s a rainy day today. I love the rain, probably because it doesn’t come around so much. I love the raw aroma of the earth, the cool droplets kissing your face, the soft patter of rain on the roof. . . but it also makes me sad. I don’t know why.

Dec 7th 1974

I took the train to the beach today. I love the beach on winter days. Everyone’s gone and I can hear the waves speaking to me without the chatter of people. It was misty when I got there. The fog was rolling in from the waves making it impossible to see. As I was walking into the thick mist, I could feel the pin prick water droplets falling on my face. All I saw was white around me. I was alone. I could hear the sound of waves crashing and fizzling out onto the shore. Out in the distance I saw the silhouettes of surfers walking towards me, their shouts far off and distant. When they walked past me I could see their pallid faces amid wavy manes of blond hair. But they didn’t see me, it was like I was invisible. Maybe they were just too into their conversation, but it felt weird. Like I was a part of the mist. When I came back from the beach, my clothes were damp and I wanted to go somewhere warm. Walking closer, I saw there was a small coffee shop nearby. Christmas lights winking in the windowpane. When I walked in there was no one. It was quiet, only the sound of waves crashing. I could feel the warmth melt away my cold face. “Hello,” someone said behind the counter. I saw it was a guy, not much older than I am. He was of medium build, curly hair, olive brown skin. He was wiping his apron when he asked me if I needed any help with anything. The place was set up like a bar, with chairs lined up in front of a counter where the barista’s made your coffee. It was kind of strange, now that I think of it, it might have been a bar as well. I took a seat and told him that I was just cold and wet from the beach. “Oh, well here,” he said, pushing a hot cup of coffee into my hands “It’s on me.” “Thank you” I told him and he gave a funny half smile and said “Don’t worry about it.” “So, why are you at the beach on such a cold day like this?” he said, “I like having the beach to myself, I guess,” I told him. “I can see why, it’s nice having just silence without people,” he said, gazing out the window. There was something in his eyes right then, it was quick, but I saw this emptiness, this longing in them. It was beautiful. We talked until the light of day faded into night. There were so many things that he and I had in common, he and I pretty much lived in the same area but he was just going to school nearby that’s why he took up this job. I told him about my family and how I had moved away to pursue my dream to be a writer. When it was time to close up, he offered me a ride home. He had an older car, a little beat up and messy. It was nice. I can remember the hills, black against the night sky, moving like colossal waves as he drove on the highway towards home. Now I sit here, 3am in the feeble lamplight writing this. I don’t know what my family would think if they were to read this. I don’t know why I feel this way. It’s just that distant gaze in his eyes, the brown tendrils that fall against his beautiful face. Those strong arms and big hands to grip me, hold me. His full lips pressing against mine. . . I shouldn’t be writing this, but this is the way I feel.

He’s beautiful. . .

His name is Noah.

Dec. 10th 1974

I went to the beach again. Not for the solitude of the beach, but to look for Noah. I walked towards the coffee shop, this time it was filled with a moderate amount of people. I could see them talking, laughing among the tables, the sun's evening glow shining in the window. When I walked in, I didn’t see Noah, but two other people, a man and a woman dressed in the same attire as Noah did, helping customers. I didn't want to be a creep and ask for Noah, so I decided to order a coffee and sat at a table. I felt stupid for coming all this way on the hope that Noah will be here and that we will have that same beautiful conversation that we did before. I looked out onto the shore. Waves were curling and crashing and though people were talking I could still hear the calming ebb and flow of the beach. One of the workers touched my shoulder, so I grabbed my coffee to give it to them, when I saw Noah’s face smiling at me. “Hi,” He said, “I just got off my shift, but I can take that for you.” “No, no it’s okay” I said, laughing and putting my coffee back on the table. “So you’re back?” he said, “enjoying the beach?” “Yeah” I told him a bit awkwardly “Do you want to-” I motioned for the other chair. “Yeah, sure” he said, “I got time.” We sat and talked for hours. And when the moment came when he furrowed his brow and looked off, I was petrified and joyfully giddy at the same time. I said what I was really thinking in my mind at that moment without thinking of what was going to happen. “That’s beautiful,” I said, swallowing after and looking for his reaction. “What is” he said, still holding that far off gaze. “T-The way you stare off,” He looked directly into my eyes and that’s when he should have called me a faggot and threw his coffee at me and kicked me out. But he didn’t. He smiled. “You’re beautiful too,” he told me, and gave me a smile that was warm. So warm I could feel it running up my cheeks and burning my ears. I smiled and looked down, holding my warm coffee.This is the first time I had ever told another guy how I felt about him. Even now as I write this I’m thinking if this a prank. If somehow I am being set up by people that are eventually going to hurt me, or kill me. He gave me a ride home again, but this time we drove in silence with only the dull motor purring beneath us. I looked over and saw the moonglow spreading over his muscular arms as he gripped the steering wheel. His soft dark blue cotton sweater pressed against his body. I looked away to the window so he wouldn’t catch my eyes lingering over him when I felt his warm hand over mine. My heart hastened, his hand was so much bigger than mine. It felt strong, comforting. We spent the rest of the ride holding onto each other. When he dropped me off he gave me his number “Call me if you want,” he said, giving me the scrap of paper. “I will,” I said, looking at him in the fractured moonlight, drinking up every detail. His warm brown eyes, soft blue sweater, his full lips, the stubble on his cheeks. When I came back into my apartment, there were papers sprawled on the counter of the kitchen. My roommate must’ve left them there I thought, but I saw something in one of the papers. A quote from something beautiful. Something I cannot forget. It read “Smiling, frowning evermore, Thou art perfect in love-lore, ever varying Madeline” Yes, beautiful.

Dec 11th 1974

Through myriad scribbles and scratched out words it reads:

You came to me in the oceans mist

Held me in the warmth of your arms

Heart beating, breathing me back to life.

Dec 20th 1974

It was cold today. The clouds swept over the sky and made the world dark and wet. When I looked outside my window today it looked as though the clouds were pregnant with rain. My daily routine now is to call Noah every morning and every night. I love the sound of his voice, the subtle nuances in his speech, when he’s telling me something he’s particularly happy or sad, the way his sleepy voice sounds in the morning. I wish I was there beside him to hear it. To rest my head on his chest and hear his heartbeat. We’ve met a few times since he drove me home that night, but our time was cut short, but today we had our day scheduled out and we would have the whole day with each other. After I had got ready I took the train to the beach, but not the one I went to when I met him, he suggested another beach. When I got to the beach it was beautiful. The waves crashed on colossal rocks and though it was dark and cloudy, I could see the entire beach glow with life. Almost no one was there, save for a few people on the pier. I found Noah sitting on the sand, near the shore. He was holding his legs and looking out, the sun’s weary sunlight reflecting in his eyes. “Hi” I said, walking up behind him. “Hi,” he smiled looking back at me “Come, sit.” I sat next to him holding my legs as he was. “It’s nice, isn’t it,” he said, “Yeah,” “I thought you’d like it, not much people around here” he sighed, “Just the sound of the waves” He smiled again and put his hand around my back, pulling me closer to him. There it was again, my heart beating faster. I scooted next to him and rested my head neath his. It felt so nice to feel this kind of comfort, to feel his warm body, to feel him breathing. “I used to go to this beach a lot with my mom,” he said “Mainly when I was a kid. She used to take me out of school and tell them I had to go to a doctors appointment or something and she would take me here.” he smiled and held me tighter. “She was the only one that accepted me for who I am. My Dad and brothers disowned me.” “Where is your mom now?” I asked.“She died a year ago,” he said, drawing a deep breath “Lung cancer. I never thought she would get it, I mean I know what smoking can do to you, but I just never thought it would happen to her. I should have helped her get off smoking” he said, looking down, tears beginning to well in his eyes. “No,” I said, sitting up and holding his arm “It’s not your fault.” He looked down at the sand, I could see tears falling down his cheeks. “I still have dreams of her curled up in the hospital bed telling me to leave. She didn’t want me to see her like that. But I knew I had to be there for her,” He started to weep and I held him in my arms for a while, feeling his hiccuping cries against my chest. When he looked up at me I wiped away his tears and saw those beautiful sorrowful eyes as I did the first time I met him. “I haven’t told anyone about this,” he said, “I’m sorry,” “It’s okay,” I told him, holding him closer. He leaned closer to me and I closed my eyes and felt his soft lips press against mine. I reached a trembling hand over his cheek, felt the prickly stubble on my hand and pressed closer to him. He tasted like warm milk mingled with tears.

The rest of the papers were torn out leaving the back cover in which is written:

Dec. 5th 1992

Noah. I will always love you.