54 loud, she sparked something in me on that day. And after reading it, the moment our eyes met, I felt this deep, intertwined connection. It felt like she said: “I understand you.” I felt that, but it didn’t move me enough to talk to her after class. For when the bell rang, I still walked away. Though this time, we both looked at each other for longer than a moment. Since that day, I have never talked to her about it. Maybe because I still didn’t want that connection or maybe because I didn’t need to. Regardless, in that weird, surreal moment in my life, I found out about the power of writing. I found out that people could understand me through a collection of words. I found out that I could impact people in ways that didn’t need to be expressed in person. I learned that I was having a conversation with her, through those absurd, meaningless moments in our lives. Up until that point, my life felt pretty meaningless. Being a misunderstood and uncaring student, I didn’t think I was going to amount to anything after high school. I barely graduated on time and I remember giving up on making art and writing because I wasn’t happy with myself and who I was. So when Mrs. Hawks read aloud the same piece I wrote when I was 13, and when she made eye contact with me in that moment, it felt so surreal. It felt like I was finally understood in some weird way. But still, I never brought it up to her after I passed her class. I decided that I didn’t need to knowwhy she kept it or why she read it out loud that day. I do remember writing the second creative writing piece with the phrase “a pipe dream” in it when I was 17 and I don’t remember ever receiving that one back either. I let that moment go too because I didn’t think it was going to matter. Now that I’m older, I know that that’s not true. Many, many interactions reappear throughout our lives, whether we want them to or not. As I write this in 2021, I regret that I didn’t talk to her, because immediately after realizing this, I realized the unclaimed moments in time became meaningful, and it pushed me to become a writer. Maybe she knew this and I didn’t know. Regardless, in the future, I am going to tell her how those meaningless, crappy words still push me to write to this day.
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