Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe

A Letter from the Desert

Dear Friend, If you're reading this, I imagine you're a bit like me—curious, searching, maybe a little lost. I'm Aristotle Mendoza, but everyone calls me Ari.

I live in El Paso, Texas, where the sun is just another resident, and the desert is our backyard. It's a place where secrets are as common as the dust, and sometimes, they are just as hard to shake off your skin.

You see, I've always felt like an outsider in my own life, a stranger to even those closest to me. My family, we don't talk about the important things, like the brother in prison I've never met, or the father who returned from Vietnam carrying a silence so heavy it's like another person at the dinner table.

In this silence, I found my own, and maybe you've felt this too—a quiet within that's both a refuge and a prison. But one summer, everything changed.

I met Dante, and for the first time, I found someone who made words feel like they meant something. He was like me but so different, with a smile that seemed to chase away the shadows.

I want to tell you about this, about Dante, about how two boys found each other in the vastness of the universe.

Swimming Lessons and the Art of Breathing

It started at the swimming pool. Dante offered to teach me how to swim, and I, knowing nothing of the way my life would tilt on its axis, agreed.

Those swimming lessons, they became more than just about staying afloat. Each stroke was a conversation, each breath a shared secret.

Maybe you've had that too—a moment, an encounter that felt like it was changing the very foundation of who you are. With Dante, I learned that sometimes you have to be submerged to learn how to breathe.

It's a paradox, isn't it? To be immersed in the very thing that could suffocate you, only to find it's what you needed to fill your lungs. This isn't just about swimming.

It's about life, about allowing yourself to be engulfed by your fears, your doubts, and finding a way to rise above them. I think we all have our own pools to face, our own waters to navigate.

The depths can be terrifying, but I can tell you this—there's something powerful in the act of conquering them, in the act of survival.

Stars and Their Secrets

The universe is vast, and we're just specks within it. Dante loved the stars, and we spent countless nights gazing at them, contemplating their secrets.

He had this way of seeing beauty in everything, and under that endless sky, I began to see it too. Have you ever looked up at the night sky and felt both insignificant and infinite? That's what it was like with Dante—the universe whispered to us, and for once, I listened.

In those stars, I saw patterns of my own life, the chaos and the order. Each star a story, a possibility, a different version of me.

I realized we're all made of the same stardust, you and I, and that means something. It means we're connected, even when we feel utterly alone.

Under those celestial bodies, I discovered a truth that felt as old as time—that we're all part of something greater, and our struggles, while unique, are also universal. The stars, they don't judge; they just are.

And maybe that's a lesson for us too, to just be, to accept ourselves in our entirety.

The Language of Anger and the Cost of Silence

I've known anger. It's been my constant companion, a language I spoke fluently.

It's easy to let it consume you, to let it define your every action. Maybe you've felt that too—the heat of it under your skin, the weight of words unsaid.

But anger, it's a tricky thing. It promises power but delivers only destruction.

With Dante, I began to learn other languages—empathy, love, vulnerability. These didn't come easy; they were foreign, uncomfortable.

But they promised a different life, one where anger wasn't the only thing keeping me warm at night. I want to tell you that it's okay to let go of that anger, to find new ways to express what's boiling inside you.

Silence can be a shield, but it can also be a barrier. Breaking it down, speaking your truth, it's terrifying, but it's the only way to truly connect with others, to connect with yourself.

Scars and Stories

We all carry scars, some visible, others hidden deep within. I have mine, and for the longest time, I thought they defined me.

They were the map of my past, each one a story I didn't want to tell. But scars, they're not just reminders of pain; they're evidence of healing, of survival.

Dante had his own scars, and together, we learned that they didn't have to be our ending. They could be our beginning.

Sharing our scars, it's an act of courage. It says, "Here I am, flawed, broken, but still standing.

" And maybe you have scars too, stories you're afraid to tell. I'm here to say that there's strength in showing them, in being vulnerable.

Your scars are not just yours. They're part of a larger narrative, one that connects all of us in our humanity.

They tell not only where you've been but also where you can go. They are not just the wounds but also the wisdom you've gained.

The Shape of Love

Love, it's a shape-shifter. It can be the gentle touch of a friend or the passionate embrace of a lover.

It can be the quiet support of a family or the loud cheer of a crowd. For me, it took the form of Dante.

Love with Dante was complicated, a puzzle I didn't know how to solve. It was more than friendship but different from what I saw in movies and read in books.

It was us, unique and terrifying in its intensity. Maybe you've experienced love like that, the kind that doesn't fit neatly into categories.

But here's what I've learned—love doesn't need to be labeled to be real. It doesn't need to be understood to be felt.

It's its own universe, with its own rules, and sometimes, all you can do is surrender to its gravity. Love, in whatever form it takes, is the force that binds us, that makes the universe make sense.

It's the answer to questions we haven't even thought to ask. And it's worth the risk, always.

Endings and Beginnings

Friend, I've shared with you a piece of my story, a fragment of my universe. I hope you've seen a bit of yourself in it, in the struggles and the triumphs.

Life, it's a series of endings and beginnings, each step a chance to rediscover who we are. Maybe you're at an ending now, or perhaps a beginning.

Either way, I want you to know that you're not alone. We're all navigating this vast, beautiful, terrifying existence together, each of us discovering the secrets of our own universes.

As I step out of my role as Aristotle Mendoza, I encourage you to find and read the original book, "Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe" by Benjamin Alire Sáenz. It's a masterpiece that delves deeper into the themes I've touched upon here, with an elegance and honesty that will leave you breathless.

Expect more laughter, more tears, and more moments of profound understanding. It's a journey worth taking, and I promise, by the end, you'll be loving not just me, but Dante, and perhaps even yourself, a little bit more.