tellurium

2nd

C H A P T E R

Tellurium, Te (an element. Glass, sometimes feelings)

“Do you really like broken things?” Ale asked me while preparing the picnic blanket to be spread on the green grass.

It was 7:30 in the evening and the sky was clear in hindsight. “In what context?” I asked him, who, at that time arranging the fairy lights in our little space, following the picnic basket’s edges. We created a little comfort of a world in that area where I enjoyed putting lights to add on the feels.

“Everything?” Ale replied, already finishing his task.

I paused for a little while to answer his query. Ale has a way of questioning. Clever questioning. He does not want me to give a shallow answer at his seemingly deep subtle asking.

I remembered a tradition in Japan which is called ‘Kintsugi’. Whenever a broken glass or a jar is presented, they don’t instantly throw it. However, they found a way of keeping it by filling the cracks with gold strips or whatever that will fill the cracks—but gold. I told Ale about this interesting Japanese tradition as one way to answer him.

“Satisfied?” I asked.

He looked at me and then to the night sky as if waiting for a stunning object to fall from the sky.

“There’s no shooting star, Ale”. I told him, trying to bug him for not answering me. He moves his head from left to right, making it known to me that he disagreed. “There’s no shooting star, Aerogel. No such thing as a shooting star. They are called meteors. They are made out of rocks, scientists believed that they are fragments of comets,” he started.

“Then why they are shining?” I asked.

“Good question.” He smirked and continued, “They are shinning due to the pressure of the earth’s atmosphere. Air pressure created an appearance at them as if their tail is shinning. That’s all. Not a shooting star. Meteors,” he finished.

“Alright, that’s an interesting trivia, but are you satisfied with what I told you about lately?” I asked again.

“Not until you will give me an element that has something to do with glass” he retorted. I looked once again at the starless night sky, I felt a feeling of defeat at the same time hopeful of why it didn’t spread its stars like sheet.

            “Tellurium,” I answered him.

“Atomic number 52,” I spoke once more.

He smiled at me, and I assume he was satisfied.

“You know, there is a bunch of Tellurium in this world”. He spoke.

“Sure there is, it is Earth,” I answered.

“No, not that. I mean, figuratively.” He spoke again.

“Try me.” I challenged. At least, tried. It is both scary and exciting thing to challenge Ale, especially about such a topic. He folded his hands and sat down, getting the fresh pizza he bought from a nearby grocery store at Green Village.

He smiled.

“People are undeniably broken. However, humans have a way to cope with such brokenness through adaptation. Greetings from natural selection. By brokenness here I mean, lacking. Discomfort. Sadness. Whatever. They cope, of course. Emotional brokenness is the real deal. Unsustainable attachments. Nevertheless, humans are at the same time, undeniably smart as to how you relayed a Japanese tradition to me lately. When falls, there’s a bind that still holds it together. Fragile. Humans are fragile. One bump on a concrete fence, the skin will turn red, worse, blood appears. One offensive word being thrown, the heart shatters. Humans are prone to be broken. ” Ale finished his piece of pizza all at once, and I had to wait for him to finally make it disappear on his mouth. I thought he was finished with his little sermon not until he commenced,

“Aer, humans are real Tellurium. You are a Tellurium.”

I want to show him I am not fragile nor smooth in terms of emotions, so I told him I will justify I am not a Tellurium.

“Maybe you are a Tellurium yourself,” I told him.

“Otherwise facts are stated, Aer,” he said sharply.

“But do you like broken things, eh?” He asked once again.

I do. I really do, broken things are a reminder for me that there is beauty in imperfections. In every crack and fragment, a hidden mystery and a story is waiting to be unfolded. I just did not answer him. Because I knew deep inside him he is broken. I don’t want to show, even in the slightest of chance that because he is broken, does not mean I love him.

“Things,” I answered him.

“Satisfied?” I followed up.

He nodded. Gazing at the midnight blue sky with its heavenly bodies at that time, were appearing, eventually. Finally, the stars went out.

A Tellurium watching the night sky, I thought.