Michael Cera.
Michael Cera.
Winter was always difficult. It was gray, gloomy and always so cold. Once the holiday season was over, it was hard to find anything cheery about winter. Devin hated it, just like everyone else, but it wasn’t the worst for him. Spring was a thousand times worse than winter. Spring may be the time when everything comes back to life, and there’s beautiful flowers and trees blooming, but spring made his heart ache.
Spring reminded Devin of him.
They met in the middle of April, A bunch of friends were meeting up at a new coffee shop near the campus. Devin walked in late, and stood next to the door nervously looking around the shop for his friends, who were situated in the back and called over to him. He started walking over, feeling himself become lighter as he began to relax. Someone knocked into him, warm coffee splashed on his arm. Devin looked up and saw those beautiful eyes that reminded him of the Chesapeake Bay back home, and for a moment he lost himself. The person, he, smiled, their pale white face flushed a brick red. Devin was mesmerized from that moment. He started to apologize, stuttering and stammering, clutching his cup of coffee in one hand, the other hands fingers nervously playing with the strap of his laptop bag. It seemed like everything was in slow motion. It was so cliché it made Devin’s head ache. He asked to buy him a coffee or a tea, something to make up for spilling coffee everywhere. Devin let him buy him a chai latte, and they chatted awkwardly while the barista prepared the drink. He brought up some movie, and asked Devin was he was majoring in. Just as the barista handed him his drink, the man asked Devin for his name. He repeated it to himself, smiling. Then he quickly turned on his heel and walked out the door, leaving Devin stunned. He didn’t even get his name. He walked back to his friends, proud of himself, and bemused. They stared at him gaping and wide-eyed. They told him who that stranger was. He was Michael Cera, a famous actor and somehow Devin had no idea, he didn’t recognize him at all. He spent that night researching him, though it made him feel guilty.
Michael contacted him a week later, told him that he couldn’t get Devin’s face out of his head and all he wanted to do was talk to him.
The first time they kissed was under a cherry blossom tree just starting to bloom. The first time they held hands was a night that wasn’t freezing cold and they both wore thin sweaters and they walked all over campus and talked about everything and nothing at the same time. Michael told Devin he loved him just after they came back from Spring Break, the whole week Michael was making appearances on late night talk shows to promote the new season of his show, Arrested Development. Devin watched every single one, his heart ached. Their first fight was when the new season finally premiered. They decided to watch it together, but Michael walked out of the room after seeing five minutes of his own acting and Devin tried to tell him that he wasn’t terrible, but he wasn’t having it and yelled at Devin to leave him alone and that he didn’t know what he was talking about. Michael called the following morning and apologized, he came to the door with donuts and flowers.
The next spring was when they lay in bed next to each other, staring at the ceiling and Devin asked what Michael thought about marriage and Michael said, “I think about you.”
The spring after that is when they studied side by side for what seemed like days at a time. Devin took care of Michael when he was sick, wiped his forehead and rubbed his back when he vomited. He stayed by his side until he was better, but the coughing stayed. They tried on their graduation gowns together and took a bunch of pictures and later that night Devin walked into the dining room of their apartment to see Michael going through the camera, smiling at every picture.
That’s the spring where Devin woke up to an empty bed and an empty room and when he walked into the kitchen he stepped in vomit and blood and Michael was curled up half-under the table heaving, with blood dripping from his nose and his busted lip. That’s the spring where they waited in hospitals, dodged photographers when they left. That’s the spring where Devin swore Michael’s wrist became so thin he could see right through it, the spring where his hand was too weak for a ring.
Devin hates winter, hates the dead trees and gray skies and the slushy roads. He hates it the most when he starts to see the buds on those dead trees, the sky start to clear up, and there’s flowers poking through dirt and patches of gray snow. He hates the smell of coffee and the taste of chai. He hates smiling for pictures and pretending to be okay for holidays and birthdays. He hates cameras and questions and people still following him through the grocery store. The only good thing about the air starting to warm up and the ground coming alive was being able to walk in his cemetery without problem, and sit there against his gravestone and talk for hours like they used to about everything and nothing all at the same time.
Spring reminded Devin of him.
They met in the middle of April, A bunch of friends were meeting up at a new coffee shop near the campus. Devin walked in late, and stood next to the door nervously looking around the shop for his friends, who were situated in the back and called over to him. He started walking over, feeling himself become lighter as he began to relax. Someone knocked into him, warm coffee splashed on his arm. Devin looked up and saw those beautiful eyes that reminded him of the Chesapeake Bay back home, and for a moment he lost himself. The person, he, smiled, their pale white face flushed a brick red. Devin was mesmerized from that moment. He started to apologize, stuttering and stammering, clutching his cup of coffee in one hand, the other hands fingers nervously playing with the strap of his laptop bag. It seemed like everything was in slow motion. It was so cliché it made Devin’s head ache. He asked to buy him a coffee or a tea, something to make up for spilling coffee everywhere. Devin let him buy him a chai latte, and they chatted awkwardly while the barista prepared the drink. He brought up some movie, and asked Devin was he was majoring in. Just as the barista handed him his drink, the man asked Devin for his name. He repeated it to himself, smiling. Then he quickly turned on his heel and walked out the door, leaving Devin stunned. He didn’t even get his name. He walked back to his friends, proud of himself, and bemused. They stared at him gaping and wide-eyed. They told him who that stranger was. He was Michael Cera, a famous actor and somehow Devin had no idea, he didn’t recognize him at all. He spent that night researching him, though it made him feel guilty.
Michael contacted him a week later, told him that he couldn’t get Devin’s face out of his head and all he wanted to do was talk to him.
The first time they kissed was under a cherry blossom tree just starting to bloom. The first time they held hands was a night that wasn’t freezing cold and they both wore thin sweaters and they walked all over campus and talked about everything and nothing at the same time. Michael told Devin he loved him just after they came back from Spring Break, the whole week Michael was making appearances on late night talk shows to promote the new season of his show, Arrested Development. Devin watched every single one, his heart ached. Their first fight was when the new season finally premiered. They decided to watch it together, but Michael walked out of the room after seeing five minutes of his own acting and Devin tried to tell him that he wasn’t terrible, but he wasn’t having it and yelled at Devin to leave him alone and that he didn’t know what he was talking about. Michael called the following morning and apologized, he came to the door with donuts and flowers.
The next spring was when they lay in bed next to each other, staring at the ceiling and Devin asked what Michael thought about marriage and Michael said, “I think about you.”
The spring after that is when they studied side by side for what seemed like days at a time. Devin took care of Michael when he was sick, wiped his forehead and rubbed his back when he vomited. He stayed by his side until he was better, but the coughing stayed. They tried on their graduation gowns together and took a bunch of pictures and later that night Devin walked into the dining room of their apartment to see Michael going through the camera, smiling at every picture.
That’s the spring where Devin woke up to an empty bed and an empty room and when he walked into the kitchen he stepped in vomit and blood and Michael was curled up half-under the table heaving, with blood dripping from his nose and his busted lip. That’s the spring where they waited in hospitals, dodged photographers when they left. That’s the spring where Devin swore Michael’s wrist became so thin he could see right through it, the spring where his hand was too weak for a ring.
Devin hates winter, hates the dead trees and gray skies and the slushy roads. He hates it the most when he starts to see the buds on those dead trees, the sky start to clear up, and there’s flowers poking through dirt and patches of gray snow. He hates the smell of coffee and the taste of chai. He hates smiling for pictures and pretending to be okay for holidays and birthdays. He hates cameras and questions and people still following him through the grocery store. The only good thing about the air starting to warm up and the ground coming alive was being able to walk in his cemetery without problem, and sit there against his gravestone and talk for hours like they used to about everything and nothing all at the same time.