For Austin, thanks for being my fan.
The desk fan buzzed away. It was the end of April, and the weather had finally turned from a slight chill to a delicate heat. Everything smelled fresh and new, like a clean slate. Despite the temperature change, my heater was still running—hence the fan. But I didn’t care. I embraced the light sheen of sweat coating every inch of my body. Sitting at my desk with the window open as wide as possible, fan whirring a simple tune, I felt at ease. It was a freeing, out-of-body experience. Like I was sitting there while also floating in the clouds. At that moment I was truly convinced that I could conquer the world. Limitless, yet simultaneously constrained within those four walls.
The fan hummed on as I paused my thoughts to look over at the person next to me.
He had his feet propped up on the desk, his short white socks on full display—one marred by its usual hole in the bottom. Yet, he tapped his foot in the steady rhythm, gaze locked downward, lips pressed into a taut line, the corners barely twitching as if holding back unspoken words. He was utterly engrossed in his work as if his future depended on this one grade. Meanwhile, I sat beside him in complete bliss.
We had only known each other briefly, but here he was, sitting in my room, softly breathing in the spring. Beads of sweat trailed down the side of his forehead as the humid air streamed in, propelled by the turning of the desk fan.
Was he feeling the same euphoria? Probably not. He was too absorbed, absentmindedly twirling his pencil. Still, I didn’t mind.
I took in the way he leaned back in his chair, the effortless calm in his movements as he shifted between tasks. It was a routine I had been around my whole life, yet only now did I truly notice it. That was simply who he was—both familiar and new, like rediscovering a song I had heard a thousand times but never truly listened to.
At that moment, I realized how desperately I wanted to know what was happening inside his head. Did he feel the shift in the world? I knew that any movement would shatter the fragile tranquility of this space. I wasn’t ready to return to reality just yet.
Looking back now, I could say that was when I first loved him. It wasn’t romantic love—no, there was no desire for him in that way. But it was still a wanting—a longing to know someone on a deeper level and to have them know you just as deeply. I knew, somewhere inside me, that he felt the same. He was constant, like the fan: present. Fully invested yet equally satisfied with sitting in quiet admiration as the world blossomed around us.
It was spring, a time for newness, rebirth, growth. I smiled in that moment realizing that I had found someone who could grow alongside me. The fan thrummed on as my heart bloomed with the hope of spring.
Katelyn Warner is a senior at DePaul University, majoring in Neuroscience. For her, writing is the perfect contrast to her science-heavy coursework—a space without limits. She will be starting medical school in the fall, but in the meantime, you can find her downtown, capturing moments on her film camera.