Like many, Loukas lives among the common notion of love. He see’s people express it to one other; a peck on the cheek, a kiss goodbye. He hears the corporate exploitation of it; Valentine’s Day cards, diamonds bought at DeBeers. But, Loukas and love etch out any of its common notions. His love experience is more than a feeling; it’s an act of achievement.
One sun filled day, Loukas came to understand love. In his black BMW, Loukas drove him and Alkandros through the streets of Los Angeles. The city, coupled with carefully chosen music, had become the script and score to how, when, and why, Loukas chose to say the words “I love you,” for the first time.
Though, like any achievement, its beginning starts somewhere else. East of Los Angeles on the 10 Freeway, Loukas grew up in the suburb of Claremont in a house that he says, “smells beige and clean.” Born to Greek parents, his life was steeped in the Greek traditions, customs, and language. His youth was marked by Greek festivals, dances, and church and his closest friends were fellow Greeks, the Marinos’. His relationship to his family and heritage was, and is, strong and passionate. His father, an immigrant to the United States, believed that being an American was to actively participate in opportunity; to build a business or raise a family or seek an education. He passed this lesson onto Loukas.
From his bedroom window, Loukas had a direct view of downtown Los Angeles. He recalls gazing toward it and dreaming of working in one of the skyscrapers; buttoned up in a suit and tie. He did not yet understand that despite the fairly short distance between Claremont and Downtown Los Angeles, he was far from the life he wanted to live.
Things began to change in high school. “It was a whole new thing for me to hang out with non-Greeks by choice,” he said, “and Gabe was really cool.”
Gabe spoke confidently and walked with a fearless swagger. One particular afternoon, Gabe and some other kids came to Loukas’s house for a school project. This was the first time that his “American friends” had come over and when Gabe asked Loukas if he had a phone, the bubble burst.
“Who doesn’t have a phone in their house?” Loukas wondered. “I don’t live in the Parthenon, I live in Claremont,” he said to Gabe with a laugh.
Gabe opened the door for Loukas to see the “life beyond the cocoon of Hellenism that I grew up in.” From here, Loukas involved himself in cross country, Christian leadership, and he even began to listen to mainstream radio.
Gabe was Loukas’s first role model outside of the Greek community. He took Gabe’s lessons to heart and helped begin organizations that took communities from their comfort zones to new places, such as weekly fieldtrips to unique parts of Los Angeles County. He continued his interest in communities, which became more specifically political or cultural, at the University of Southern California.
For Loukas, his university education was a uniquely American opportunity. Like his father, Loukas understood that the responsibility of being American was the act of applying oneself to available opportunities. Reminded by the teachings of his father and Gabe, Loukas actively protested the second term of President George W. Bush, the war in Serbia, and later the passing of Proposition 8.
Then, Alkandros came.
He was as tall as Loukas, about 5”10. Dark hair and tanned skin. The two began as friends and shared the bond of being Greek. In their early twenties, the two were inseparable and two years thereafter, things began to change for Loukas. The gnawing, gut pounding feeling, of more than just friends had set in.
“I can’t have love the way my parents had,” Loukas said as he reflected on how he processed this difficult feeling, “I denied that to myself because there were no role models.”
But, the gnaw persisted, and somewhere in the back of his unconscious mind the lessons of his father and Gabe pushed him yet again. “I thought, you know, you can’t live in secret. You’ll limit yourself in every way.”
Loukas weighed the opportunity to tell Alkandros. He knew that the friendship could be on the line, but he also knew there was a chance for love.
When the best available moment came, Loukas said, “I love you.’”
At Twenty-Five, Loukas was at his most vulnerable. His utterance came with consequence. The love was unrequited and the friendship took a beating. Though, Loukas reflected on that moment and he understood its importance for him, which was to “find the courage to tell someone,” because, “I thought I would never have that opportunity as a high school student.”
Songs, private to Loukas and Alkandros, of friendship, love, and journey played as the two sped by Mel’s Dinner, Paramount Studios, Capitol Records, Pink’s, and the Mormon Temple. The sun was setting when they headed West on the 405 toward the coast. “That day, he got to understand how I felt and we cried a lot.”
“I don’t feel like I have any bubbles right now,” Loukas said, “I want marriage and love as an opportunity,” and “I’m worthy.” Loukas, who is at the cusp of his Thirties is now best friends with Alkandros and, as he dreamed as a child, works in downtown; buttoned up in a suit and tie.
“I think Gabe would be very proud of me.”
*Names have been changed
