Hey Stephen | Steven

I met Steven (let's choose this for now) at around 3 am when I was reading Frankenstein under a dusky mix of streetlight and moonlight. Unlike most people who would've turned away from a lonely, pajama-worn girl sitting under the street light on the concrete reading a gothic novel (because... well, because that was the most perfect way to read the first Gothic novel anyway) Steven slowed down and smiled in almost comedic consideration, as if thinking "you too?". But I guess, he was out there too, walking outside at around 3 am. We found each in unlikely coincidence. It has been around two years since then, but I find myself thinking about him more and more in random recurrences.

The conversation started with a steady question from Steven, he had the confidence of someone who would walk the woods at night, willingly. He was calm, kind, and fearless in a nonchalant way.

"Are you really reading here?" Which was followed by a sibling question... "Would you mind if I join?"

Well, the internalised misogyny in me was going haywire at first, he was cute, I am not going to lie, his smile made me forget I was reading under moonlight for a second... So what made him stop and want to talk to me? And then I knew, I am not just a woman, I'm a person too... I'm better nowadays but I had to put up constant fights with all this internalised thought process back then. I eased into comfort now, and said,

"Sure. Reading Frankenstein. I've always been a little scared of horror and ghosts but there's also something so comforting about the night, so I came here." Or maybe the dialogue went a little differently. I just remember the gist of it.

"Yeah," he agreed, there is something surreal about the night.

"That's why I love it too. Some peace and quiet without most people awake and just an ease in the silence too."

I do remember that our conversation lasted for over an hour. It was so easy to talk to him it felt like I had conjured a person to listen to me and agree with me and talk to me. A proper conversation, no half-ended forceful bullshit. Real.

He told me he was a Christian and we spoke about religion for a bit, he asked me and I told him I was a Muslim and he smiled and continued. He told me how he attends the church in campus most Sundays and how people use Christianity as a scapegoat for homophobia when really everything about that was written in the Bible to stop gang rapes not to condemn two people from loving each other. I do admit, I loved listening to him. It was like a dream, for someone who likes talking and writing. He started telling me about his roommates and how obsessed they are with The Bachelor and how silly it is and that he watched it but couldn't stop laughing and how one of his roommates never cleaned and created a mess everywhere... That he also brought them to the Church Sunday Service once. They didn't really like it, but it was fun for him. He thought it was sad, for some people, how this fast-fashionesque dating was ruining some people.

He told me about the times he had trailed through the Woodland trail surrounding the campus and climbed trees and waited for someone to jog by and then scare the living life out of them. He was just so fun and good. I'm sure I'm forgetting so many other things he might have said. But even now, since it's been days since I've been back... I remember him. I remember the light in his eyes when he told me about how being a good human being is the premise of Christianity and how homophobia was selectively stupid. I remember kindness in him. Which is why I wanted to keep this with me, this memory of the night I met a complete stranger who felt like no stranger at all.

Now let me add I'm not saying I remember it and think about being in love with him or anything. I just remember a watery shadow of his face. What I remember is the kindness he showed me, of the conversation he gave me. I'm sure it is "is", people like him don't really go downhill from where they stand-belief-wise anyway.

But I want to write this here because this made a difference to me. Finding someone so similar back when I felt unsure of anywhere I would go from the minute, the day, or the hour I was living then. It reassured me, but more than that, it showed me that kindness and love and smiles are nothing short of pieces of art when some certain people exercise them honestly. Steven might remember me, but then again he might not. But I remember the feeling of his presence every now and then, and I'm grateful because in that moment the universe confirmed something I desperately wanted confirmed... That goodness, honest and untainted goodness, exists and I will find it in friends and partners, no matter how hard I have to look for them. Steven reassured me that you can meet good people anytime anywhere, that you don't really have to look for them. Sometimes, even for a few second window, the stars align themselves just enough for you to see things so clearly. Those moments feel as momentous as discovering new constellations, or creating new ones that affect you with the greatness of the universe and you feel connected to the universe, and in those spur of a moment minutes, if you catch it, if you seek it? You will find what the poets talk of, you will feel magic. I've found magic and lost it too, but the good thing is, once you've known and embodied the magic of feeling in you? It becomes a part of your bones, a part of you. It never really stops growing from there.

That night, in true conversation, in the kindness of a stranger and in the wink of the morning light when Steven got up to leave? I knew I might never see him again, and I was right, I didn't. But I was never sad about that. I was the happiest I'd been in a long time.

So, thank you, Steven. You made me feel like it would be okay, That there will always be people who think like me, who dream of climbing trees and scaring the early morning joggers and laughing about their screams, who think homophobia is stupid and irreligious and love is worth fighting for, and that nights are beautiful.

Thank you, dear friend.

The universe has been kind to me. I hope it presents you with the same kindness through the sparse routine of "it's a hard knock life". I hope you find goodness in strangers who read Gothic novels under streetlight on concrete. I hope you stop by and ask them what they are reading and if it's okay for you to sit down and join them.

#MaryShelley #frankenstein #gothic #inclusivity #christian #kindness #strangers #latenights #to #earlymorning #thoughts #hope #goodness #thetruthaboutreligion #andlove #acceptance #acknowledgement