The Jumper

The sunset is not all that romantic. It doesn’t leave you gasping for air the way Hollywood claims it does. It doesn’t make you release a gasp of astonishment the way you would when you realize the Mona Lisa is as small as a postage stamp and covered in bulletproof glass the first time you visit Paris. It doesn’t make you stop for a moment in your tightly scheduled life to catch a breath and reflect upon the complexities of your life. No, that is not what watching the sunrise is like. Not for Marie, anyway.

The first time Marie watched the sun set, she woke up three hours earlier than the time she had set on her alarm clock. Groggily, she hauled herself out of the comfort of her warm bed and allowed her feet to carry her to the closet. Without giving more than a second glance at the clothes, she threw on a t-shirt and a pair of jeans. Well, nothing unusual there. However, her choice of clothing was unique in that she included a dark purple jumper.

Her friends and family had often made fun of her for the plain and unattractive sweater but she paid no heed to their comments. Whether facing winds traveling at twenty miles per hour or standing under the scorching sun in the hundred-degree desert, she had worn that sweater. She could recall being upset at the harsh red of her skin the summer before, as a result of the constant exposure to sunlight, and she was determined to prevent the same outcome from recurring. Additionally, wearing a garment that others would not wear made her seem unique, and she stood out among her peers. Although initially driven by a simple mentality – to prevent burning and to be distinctive among others, these goals were ultimately the manifestations of her early forms of rebellion against society’s expectations and push for conformity.
Despite how her defiance had little to no impact on changing the ways of the community, this was her first step in acknowledging the aspects of society she didn’t agree with. Marie had seen the standards of beauty mainstream media set for individuals, most of which were unrealistic and almost impossible to fulfill. Although she could not fully articulate it at the time, she understood that the walls of this mainstream culture easily bound individuals, mainly women. These impractical standards were simply glorified ideals, yet we are all expected to achieve these goals. Perhaps, she thought, that it would be all right to not abide by these expectations and expand beyond these restrictive walls of photoshopped photographs and perfect pixels.

As Marie made her way down to the park to watch the sunset, her sister decided to accompany her.
“I brought my video camera with me,” she said.
“Yeah, I brought my camera too,” Marie, replied.

Once they reached the park, the girls settled down in the swings, waiting for the sun to greet them goodnight. They sat in silence as they observed the stillness of the empty streets, full of eerie tranquility as if the streets devoid of living souls were unnatural, but the silence provided them with comfort. The street lamps further down the street seemed so small that they had reminded Marie of fireflies. Some of the lights even flickered.

As the sun descended from the horizon, it spread a warm orange glow across the sky. Marie turned her digital camera on and snapped a few quick shots of the sunset. Within a matter of minutes, the sun was already long gone into the depths of the sky and the entire town was enveloped under a blood orange haze before it was sent to bed and covered with a blanket of darkness. Her sister turned to her, and with curious eyes, questioned her attire. “Are you going to wear that jumper all night? We live in Florida, even though it’s night it’s still going to be hot.”

Marie cast her eyes downwards, towards the compact digital screen on her camera. The pictures she took of the sun didn’t seem to quite capture the essence of sunset that she was hoping for, the ideal romantic sunset that movies seemed to offer with the comforting knowledge that yet another brilliant day was finally over. The reality of the sunset did not meet her expectations, as Marie was sure she didn’t meet the suns.

Marie gave the picture one last, hard look, and then turned the digital device off. “Yes,” she said. “I think I’ll keep the jumper on.” After all, the sunset really was not all that romantic.