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I didn't meet him until my second year of college. A classmate of mine, Roxy, lived on the second floor of one of the dorms, and while I was trying to call out for her to let me in, I noticed Him. He was wrapped in a blanket, hunched over his desk. His windowsill was completely clear, except for a small bonsai tree. That first time, my eyes passed right over him and up to the room above, where Roxy hung out of her window, tossing me down a key to get in and giggling. I didn't think of him again for a while.
The second time was a week later when I was going over to Roxy’s again. I had gotten a movie, and we were going to watch it together. This time, while I was waiting for her to come down and unlock the main door, I asked him what kind of tree it was. He didn't seem to hear me at first. He seemed surprised to be asked, which I suppose is normal. How often does a stranger ask what kind of plant is in your window? But then he smiled at me and said it was cypress, a gift from his sister. I told him my name was Dirk. He told me his name was Jonathan.
I would talk to him whenever I went over to see Roxy. He told me how his roommate had an older brother name Dirk. But they didn't talk to each other much. I told him how I wished I had a bother. About how I was adopted. How sometimes I thought of Roxy as my sister. He showed me pictures of his sister, and the dogs she worked with. He griped about his roommate and how he would stay up late mixing music. I never saw the roommate though. When I asked, Jonathan shrugged and said that he was out almost all the time these days.
He became a constant in my life. Somehow, he never had classes when I came over. I would lean against his windowsill and talk with him for hours at a time. I didn't even go see Roxy as often. She teased me a bit about it, asking if I had found myself a special someone, while winking horribly.
He was there next year too. That year, I moved in with Roxy. She didn't mind that I would leave tools strewn about the room. She even occasionally reminded me that I needed to eat and sleep a few times a day. Even though I didn't have to wait beneath the window anymore, I would still talk to John, as he had finally let me start calling him. But he never unwrapped himself from the blanket, and he never let me come into his room.
My senior year, I didn't get to talk to him as often. I was busy working on advanced circuitry homework, and trying to finish my senior project; an AI program that would make its own music. As a joke, I named it Dave, after John’s roommate. John snickered when I told him, and I asked him again if I could come in. He stopped laughing then. Told me that maybe, we should stop talking. That I was obviously busy, and should really be working on my projects so I could graduate on time. I got mad, told him that at least I was doing something, not like him; always just sitting inside, curled over that desk, wrapping the blanket close to himself. He just smiled back at me; this horrible, sad smile, and agreed with every word I said.
I didn't talk to him for almost the rest of the year. He had been right, I was busy. I became busier still as I threw myself into my Dave project, who I jokingly began calling my brother, as a homage to Dave and his brother. It wasn't until right before graduation that I talked to him again. Apologized. Admitted that I had been an ass. He forgave me right away with this look on his face that said, ‘I know. It’s happened before. I understand.’ Then he gave me his tree. Said it was a graduation present. I didn't touch his hands when I took it from him, but the pot was so cold. His blanket slipped a little when he gave it to me, and I saw that his shirt had stains all over it. When I asked him about it, he said that it was from a play. ‘Too much fake blood. It got everywhere.’ I told him that it was very realistic looking.
When I brought the tree up to my room, Roxy seemed surprised. She said that it was a cypress tree, and that it was really sort of morbid for me to get on right before I graduated. When I asked why, she said it was because cypress trees were associated with death and the afterlife. I shrugged it off. It was a gift from John. And he had been given it by his sister. Surely they had just thought it was a beautiful little bonsai tree.
I said goodbye to John at the end of that year and moved to Texas. Found a job. Sometime put music that Dave had made on youtube. I never had to prune that tree though. It didn’t grow at all. If not for the fact that it was still green, I would have told anyone who asked that it was dead.