He’s the cheese to my macaroni

He’s the cheese to my macaroni 

It all started with a salute in a class

His dark brown eyes reflected that of sweet honey

We shared the same native tongue, Spanish

In that week, I fell for him

He did too

Every Thursday, after the class bell rings

I play guitar and he sings

A perfect duo for the two Latinos

I would strum a G Chord and he would sing the same tune

So blissful and sweet it was a tradition for us

There was a day where the sun was not warm enough for me

“Estas bien?” —— (Are you okay?) 

It’s such a simple question but yet so relieving

I shared my hectic day with tired eyes and an empty stomach

In that instant, I was offered a hug of warmth and Nutella 

It was small yet confonting

I no longer saw him as a guy from my class

He’s the cheese to my macaroni