The First Seven

I have a project that I’ve slowly been working on. A project that will hopefully chronicle the growth and strength of the culture I’ve mentioned a couple times prior in this blog. When the writing course I’ve been going through prompted us to work on some character descriptions and development, I was so excited because this was the perfect shot of adrenaline that I’ve been needing.

These are all based on people that I know and love dearly. The descriptions might be embellished here and there to create more interest, but this was an incredibly fun exercise. I only made it to seven people, but I’m hoping to expand this and possibly do some extra characters each week.

She flitted from group to group as if she knew everybody. She looked young, but seemed ageless. When she chose to, she could turn those crystal blue eyes on you and flash the brightest smile like you were the greatest person on the planet and her best friend. She was free, a hippy child born far past the era she belonged to. Under the freeness, however, was a vulnerability. If you took the time to get to know her, you noticed the expressions of uncertainty that flashed across her face when nobody was really paying attention. Through it all, she loved. She loved more fiercely than anyone I had ever encountered.

He had an aura of serenity enveloping him. His smile was slow and steady, and although he looked quite young in general, his eyes were ancient. When he chose to grace someone with his undivided attention, he looked as if nothing in your soul could be hidden from him. As terrifying as that should have been, his air of total acceptance put even the most unsettled person at peace. He was attractive in the traditional sense, but there was something oddly majestic about the way he carried his tall frame. You could see that he had dealt with many demons throughout his life, but his utter acceptance and love for everybody he met was proof of his strength.

His hair was untamable. His laugh was infectious. His smile was proof of his love for life and the people he surrounded himself with. He looked like the kind of person who could instantly befriend anybody, but it betrayed a little of his uncertainty if you looked carefully.

A third man sat in the corner with his phone in one hand and a pitcher of beer in the other. He hardly glanced up at all, but when he did, there was an attitude of melancholy that radiated off of his entire self. He wore a red beanie that sometimes served as a form of armor- a protection that prevented him from being completely vulnerable.

She walked in with the guy with the untamable hair. She knew his feelings- she knew that he wished they could be together and have a happily ever after, but her actions showed that she just didn’t care if she hurt him or not. She was careless- careless in a way that many viewed as attractive, but not in a way that brings any sort of value to a community. She lived her life without remotely caring about the feelings of people who dreamed of caring for her, so she left a path of destruction in her wake.

They were the ideal rocker couple. He expressed all of his emotions through his guitar, and she showed her love and support by being front row every single time he was on stage. He was the most introspective-looking man around, one who had thoughts running through his head constantly, but was only able to express those thoughts through music. He always looked as though he was under the influence of something, which he might have been, but you could also tell he was constantly fighting demons- demons of addiction and overindulgence. She loved him despite all of this- she loved him so selflessly. It was a pure sort of love- a love that was constant and battled through the demons, a love that most people could only dream of. They shared a love that was pure despite all of the dirt that tried to fight them.

listening to: Portugal the Man