Students in Stephanie Natale-Boianelli’s Composition I classes this fall read essays from the This I Believe project (www.thisibelieve.org) and examined what they revealed about effective writing. Students then wrote their own This I Believe essays. Atlantic Cape CommuniCator will share some of the best essays. This issue’s essay comes from Domenic Maggi, a psychology major and musician:
I Believe in the Album
My best friend is the type of friend you know you need, but you never tell them because maybe it’ll make things awkward in the friendship.
My best friend understands me. He seems to have this sixth-sense where he knows exactly what mood I’m in.
I believe my best friend cares about me. I can hear it in the words he speaks to me. With rhythmic patterns of phrases that swing back and forth, it shows that my best friend is very tangible.
I do not just hear him, I see him. Sometimes certain looks he gives brings me to a time I didn’t get what I wanted out of a situation. And other times, there’s a look he gives me that reminds me of the person I feel the most for in my life. I can revisit any moment of my past in the memories he translates in songs.
My friend says in melodies:
“Can you still feel the butterflies?”
“I’m just happy you stuck around”
“The world we know, it’s the world we lost”
Phrases. These phrases are individual looks he gives me. Each look pushing out a different emotion in me. Some looks punch me right in the jaw, others slap a nice smile on my face when maybe it’s a time where my surroundings are trying to keep that smile from me.
I’m not afraid to admit I’ve cried in front of my best friend. Through hours and hours of conversation, through antique grooves my best friend tells me that I’m okay, that I’m a great guy. Every pop in the wax equals all the times either one of us says the words “um” or “like”.
My best friend comes in a compact disc that brings me bliss, smiles, and nostalgia for the things I miss. A shiny circle that gives me more comfort than any pair of perfectly-fitting socks could do.
The miniature reel tape captures one conversation, I flip it over so we can keep the conversation going. My tape deck heart is fulfilled when I hear the imperfections and audio flutters. He is human just like me.
I always like to hear his stories. His stories make me realize flaws in myself. He makes me a better person.
My best friend isn’t always a chatter-box though. Sometimes he talks without even talking. It makes me pay attention that much more. There’s an ambience, maybe it’s just one instrument, or maybe it’s fifteen. Sometimes when there’s no words spoken, I feel that’s when my best friend is being the most honest to me.
Having the patience to listen to my best friend is my favorite quality in myself. The white noise after our conversation hits like the panic-attack I get right before I fall asleep. It takes my breath from me.
I believe in sitting and listening to the album. I believe in my best friend.