Not just another love story...
This is the story of a boy, and who he was to me. we met in high school, because of our art class. I didn't really think we would ever go out when i first started getting to know him.
I had just broken up with another boy a few months, and i was still heartbroken from it. but one day he suprised me and offered to take me to dinner. we didnt know each other very well yet, and i was afraid the date would be akward. at first it was, but all of a sudden we were as comfortable around each other as lifelong friends. we sat outside and looked at the stars while we waited for a table, and he told me my eyes were as beautiful as the stars, in spanish. we had staring contests over the table, coughed up pizza from laughing so hard, and shared a brownie with ice cream.
after that night, we went out just about every weekend. i forgot all about my old boyfriend. we went sketching together at the zoo, went to every movie worth seeing, and spent hours talking every day talking after school. i never knew how much i was in love with him until he left for a week to go to l.a. it was the longest week i could remember.
it wasnt a convenient or reasonable love. we were complete opposites in every way, which i guess was why we matched up so well. he was a sensitive, old fashioned kind of gentleman. i was a rowdy, no regrets, crazy kind f chick. he was a city boy, and i lived in the country. he liked to dress up, and i liked to dress down. but he taught me to be responsible, to work harder, and to take time on the important things. i brought him out of his shell and showed him how to kick back and just have good, silly fun.
like any couple, we had our share of weird traditions and habits. we couldnt walk past a photobooth without using it, we always talked on the phone til we fell asleep, and we were always acting like we were five. we went to the same theme park about four times, and rode the same rides over and over until the pictures turned out perfect.
we loved the simple things. we only went to eat at nice places a few times. our favorite way to spend time together was to just drive to empty parks and throw our shoes off. he would play guitar and i would write songs and sing for him. we would go to stores and try on things we would never buy. sometimes we would go to the mall, and just look. i would hold up every dress and ask him how i would look in it, and he would always say beautiful, or dazzling, or amazing.
we started going out knowing it wouldnt last, but we didnt care. i had already been accepted to a college out of state, and he had a dream to be a great artist. we would talk about how we would get married, and make up little stories about ourselves as newlyweds. one night, i told him we werent really going to get married, and we had to accept the reality. we spent the rest of the night crying together on the phone.
if i was ever sad, he would stay with me, no matter how much trouble he was going to wind up in. sometimes i would just cry into his shirt for hours, and he would just hold me and stroke my hair. i would try to get him to leave, but he just couldnt walk away from me. even if i was upset over nothing, he would stay with me for hours. he wiped away my tears, and let me get mascara stains all over his clothes. he would always send me home with a hankercheif and his sweatshirt and make me swear to call as soon as i got home.
finally our time was up. we spent our last day together laughing, hugging, kissing, and crying. we went to all our favorite places. we talked about all the memories we could think of. i sang to him. we cried for hours. then we would stop long enough to talk about some more good times, and break down all over again. finally, after our parents had called over and over again, we decided it was time to go.
he took me home, and we held each other one more time, under the stars. we had one last kiss, and i turned and went inside, tears streaming down my face. we talked on the phone that night until early the next morning. we both cried all morning the next day. he couldnt even make it to class. i packed up the last of my things and, me and my family drove off at noon.
it was the best seven months of my life. we laughed and cried together and we knew each other better than some people know each other in their entire lives. ive had two boyfriends scince we broke up, and im still in love with him. we still talk. about how we dont belong to each other anymore, about the new people we're with, everything. i still miss the way his kisses taste and how his hugs make me feel like im safe from anything and everything. i miss the way his hands felt in mine. i miss the way he used to look at me.
we'll see each other again, but things wont ever be the same. we'll go on and probably marry different people. but ill always remember him.