Angela Castillo
Creative Non Fiction
ENG 3017
Dr. Chandler
Fall 2008
Furnishing a Heart
Late at night, when I can’t sleep, I stare at my walls for hours. They remind me of who I was, who I am, and who I’d like to be. Staring at my walls have allowed me to realize, that every day is an opportunity to learn, to change and to move on.
Like a volcanic eruption, my eyes exploded with hot fiery tears. The boiling magma of my insecurities began to rise across the surface of my smile. How do you prevent inevitable disasters? You can't. It's fight or flight. In order to ride these turbulent flights of slumber, I needed my seat belt. I held on to my bottle of sleeping pills each night and believed that they could rescue me from my pain. Drained with grief, I feared my own sleep because I couldn't even escape them in my dreams. Would I ever smile again? Could I ever move on? This type of change was terrifying.
The Walls Were Gray
It was at sixteen that I learned a person can cry it could hurt to breathe. It was then that I learned giving someone the best of you could be the worst thing you could ever do. These walls use to be gray. When I was seventeen years old, I experienced my first heartbreak. It took me about two years to get over “Jim”. Jim tainted my love struck heart. He knew how I would do anything for him. I could not identify myself without him. I did not know if I could get passed our break up. I spent many days and nights crying in my room. I cried myself to sleep for months until I tasted watermelons.
Watermelons Taste Better
So this was college? I didn’t have to go to class if I didn’t want to. I chose my schedule, I could come in late during the lecture of about 100 people and nobody would say anything. It was the type of freedom I longed for as a teen. This tasted better than my tears.
After graduating high school, I told myself that I needed a fresh new start. I was in a new school and started to experience more and more independence. I thought it would be a great idea to get rid of my old self by changing my wardrobe, dying my hair different colors each month, working out at the gym and meeting new friends. I was starting to recover from my heartache.
Bright and bold, there was no doubt about it. I changed so much that first year of college. I went to parties, cut class and stayed out until 3 in the morning. I worried my parents sick, but at least I wasn’t depressed in my room crying each night. Thank God I was finally able to breathe freely.
My grandmother and grandfather helped me paint my walls pink and green that year. I chose the colors in hopes of brightening up the darkness of my room. I kept it that way for about two years until I met my next boyfriend “Craig”. He was calm and kept me grounded.
Mellow Yellow
He was so different from my ex. Craig was about 6’3 and over 200lbs. He was a huge guy compared to Jim. Jim was 5’7 and 130lbs .Craig lived on his own in Pennsylvania and was a mechanic going to school for automotive technology. Craig was very quiet, soft spoken and slow to anger. He was what many people would call a “gentle giant”. He respected me and cared about me so much that he drove 400 miles every other weekend to see me. One time he surprised me by driving to my house during a snow storm. Jim on the other hand was this loud, outspoken Biology major who made me feel stupid every time I looked at him. I basically threw myself at Jim all those years in high school, I realize now it wasn’t love that I had with Jim instead it was an obsession. Craig loved me.
After I dated Craig for a year, he helped me paint my walls yellow. It illuminated my room with a bright warm glow. It was with Craig that I began to turn away from the partying scene. With Craig we stayed home, spent time with the family, had long day trips and ate at restaurants. Craig was an introvert. I did most of the talking. He often smiled at me and did the most talking when it came to conversations about cars. After all he was a great mechanic who was able to transform his automatic car into stick shift. He took care of me and I loved him. The only thing missing was a deep connection.
He was too quiet, I felt like I was missing something, conversation and laughter. For the last six months of our relationship, I can’t recall a time where he smiled with me. He always felt as if he wasn’t good enough for me, and in a sense I felt he wasn’t, because I kept trying to change the person he was. I wanted him to be more outgoing, I wanted him to reach for my hand first, I wanted him to be more affectionate, I wanted him to quit drinking and smoking. I wanted him to talk more. I wanted him to smile, but he was troubled and kept himself emotionally distant, because his father was dying and so was our relationship. He told me he wasn’t good enough, I kept trying to prove him wrong. Yet after dating for over two years, we realized that there was a difference between a relationship and a routine, therefore we simply broke up. He was right, I wanted something different.
Rainbows and Graffiti
A few months later I met “James”. He was a guest drummer at my church. He should be outgoing, drummers are loud and energetic. Yet, I didn’t notice him on stage. I was awestruck by the lead singer. After the concert, I was able to meet the band members. James had this handsome smile. He laughed easily and had a great sense of humor. He was outgoing and was playing with the children of the congregation. Kids – I love kids too. He was a breath of fresh air, mysterious and so different from Craig because James knew how to start a conversation and James laughed easily. I knew I shouldn’t compare the two but it was only natural .James was shorter, 5”11 and about 175 lbs, he was a Christian man who played with a band at his church. He was a God fearing man, that’s always a plus .
He brought variety into my life. He was spontaneous, and a hopeless romantic. When we first started dating, he took me to pier in Queens that over looked New York City and the Hudson River. We watched the city lights and ate desert under the stars. Then on Valentine’s day, when I was sick with a fever and he brought me sushi and drew me a poster of characters and images of a dream that I once mentioned to him. I can’t believe he transformed my thoughts into artwork. When I finally recovered he took me to the candle light dinner that we previously cancelled. He made me smile; he gave me those stupid “butterflies in my tummy”. Indeed, with him there was that connection I always longed for. So as time passed, I started to hang more and more of his drawings on my mellow yellow bedroom walls.
The Walls of My Heart I never realized just how important my bedroom walls are to me. I still kept them yellow because Craig worked so hard on painting them. He holds a special place in my heart. Though we stopped talking to each other, I still think about him once in a while and wonder how he’s doing. He helped such important role in my life for two and a half years. He helped me realize that I didn’t need to live a crazy lifestyle in order to be happy. He was also the first man I dated that treated me with respect. But although he did that much for me, like my plain yellow walls, I felt that there was something missing. Craig left me feeling empty and my walls were bare. So we broke up and I started dating James. He helped me decorate the walls with pictures and drawings . I’ve moved on . James and I enjoy each other’s company. He gives me a reason to stare at my walls; now they’re colorful and filled with different images of characters, hugging, kissing, and laughing. So as I stared at my walls, I realized that , the pink, the green, the yellows all serve as memories of my life and past relationships from which I can honestly say I’ve learned from. Life was starting to change and I was fine.
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