By Tim Wong
I couldn’t shut up if my life depended on it.
I’ve always been an overly chatty person. I love talking to people, I love telling stories, I love making people laugh. In many ways, it can be completely unbearable to be around. The dull drumming of my voice going on and on can be very annoying. But there have been moments when my talkativeness served me well. One moment stands out especially.
“Why?”
He stares at me with sunken, sleepless, grief-filled eyes. His tears and sweat-covered hands stain my collar as he tightly grips it. Begging for answers I didn’t have. That nobody has.
With all the wit and articulation a 17-year-old has, I manage to say, “it’s gonna be OK,” as I pull him into a hug. Perhaps trying to convince myself as much as him at that moment.
“Is it?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” I impulsively replied. My voice cracking under pressure.
After a moment of silence, something miraculous happened.
He laughed.
Not a lot. Not loudly. But he did. Just a little bit. On an infinitely terrible day, for that brief second, all I could feel was gratitude. Two kids swimming in a sea of grief getting a moment of air. Now, I can’t say that I walked away that day having done everything I could have done, that I fixed things, that I didn’t immediately call my parents after in a panic.
I can say that I made him laugh.
Tim Wong (he/him) ‘27 is a sophomore double majoring in television, radio and film & economics. He likes listening to music, watching movies, and photography. Boring! He is happy to have this piece featured and understands it is deeply flawed.
