In Medias Res

Internal reflections in between an observation and a response.

“You dyed your hair.”

Four little words, simple, yet not so much in this context. The man standing before her didn’t sway his voice away from the polite “It’s so nice to see you” inflection, leaving the newly- graduated woman perplexed as to what he actually thought. She wasn’t privileged enough to know what his opinion on her switch from a brunette to a redhead was. Inwardly, she was frustrated by his attitude, the way he had to talk to her as if she was a stranger, not someone he met two years ago in the school courtyard. But they were strangers, in a way. They never discovered each other’s deepest secrets, and they weren’t the type to keep in regular contact via text messages and the Internet. As much as she has wished otherwise for the past year and a half, they didn’t know each other nearly as much as she wanted them to. The phrase “friendly strangers” was the closest thing she could think of to summarize the two of them.

Outwardly, she only showed the joy of being face-to-face with him after five months of near-silence and the pride at proving herself wrong and actually walking across the makeshift stage set up in the gym to receive her diploma from the principal. It was an act accomplished by so many, but she felt as if something rare and incredible had been achieved, simply because she hadn’t ended up dead barely halfway through her high school experience.

And herein lied the difference between them: almost two years (accentuated by the fact that he stood before her in a gray striped shirt and khaki shorts, while she was in a maroon cap and gown, maroon and white tassel to the left) and the way they carried each other: both sensitive souls who live to create, he with a care-free attitude, she with heaviness. And yet, he’d taken notice of her, talked about guitars, casually chatted about the works they had to read for class, called her “friend”, cheered her on, and vocalized his observation of her change in appearance, the only one who had done so all day. Sadness started to settle inside her, but she quickly pushed it away. The few tears she had shed at the ceremony were enough for one day.

“Yeah,” she replied almost wistfully, and the two of them continued catching up in an awkward fashion (because let’s face it, they both have the tendency to be awkward people.)

Author's Note

Thank you for taking the time to read this! Any comments would be much-appreciated!