Love Stories @ RomanceClass -|
After all, true love always finds a way.
Someone once told me, First loves are never really over. I desperately hope this is true.
It was a hard time in my life, moving to a new state, far away from my southern roots, fighting with my parents...and doing things i knew i shouldn't. I partied it up every weekend, skipped class, and hated myself to pieces.
I first met him at a local 'punk' show, where a bunch of bands get together and rock out, while everyone else moshes and does whatever. I didn't see him, but he saw me. I was pulled into the mosh pit by a guy i didn't see, who happened to smell like sweat and powdered sugar. The guy was trying to fuck with me, yet fortunately i got out of there. I thank god he pulled me in now, that man had no idea what he started.
That was December 23,2003. The coming March, a good male friend of mine, S*, called me one day, and he asked me about that, and told me he had a friend who wasn't on good terms with the guy, and wanted to talk to me. So, i got S*'s friend L*'s e-mail addy, and i talked to him shortly after. We got close, fast. I learned he had seen me, although i had not seen him, and he thought i was beautiful(This being my overly rebellious fishnet,shredded jeans, converse all star and pixie cut black hair stage). We had a flirt relationship for some time to come, I always had a boyfriend, and wasn't too attracted to L*, until that coming May. He cut his hair, and it made him look so much better. I'd like to call it my slow seduction. I left for my home that summer, June 4th 2004 to be exact, back to my Louisiana home. But, he swore off any other girls, he had decided he would wait for me. We fought quite a bit, over stupid things, only to run up phone bills with all night conversations about what we wanted to do together. Not just sexually, but lovingly. We were going to lay out under the stars on a chilly night, and cuddle together. Things like that, every morning and night we talked... I loved him completely, and he responded with as much enthusiasm. But, August 1, 2004, Not three days before i came back to him, we fought... not even a bad fight, but enough. I felt as if i had been shredded into a thousand pieces and i would never be the same.
We stayed close friends, shared everythign together, and alway avoided the topic. Until one night, he asked if he could come see me, and he did. I admit it was awkward... i wanted to hold him, but that felt almost to much. So, instead, he slept in my lap, and i cried.
Many nights came like this, he stole his dad's car, to drive to my house and climb through my window, to sleep in my arms, or kiss until dawn, talking about life.
Until i met another. L* was cold towards me, and began dating R*, a girl who up until then was my closest girl friend. He listened to me when i told him she cheated on him, and we didn't talk about us.
One night, i downed a bottle of Aspirin, in fact, enough to kill a 173.4 lb human being. I only weighed 146, and had to be hospitalized. But, he was at my house when he found out what happened, and waiting for me. A friend told me he would go sit outside the mental treatment center, and smoke at least one pack of cigarettes. I awoke one morning to see I LOVE YOU N*, written in the snow. I know it was him, but i never told him i knew.
Some time after that, he started drinking and smoking pot again, and i felt my heart crush itself. He would tell me how lonely he was, but i was trying to keep my other relationship together... and all i truly wanted was L*.
One night, he asked me if i thought we would ever work out ...again. I said yes. We had both changed so much...
After 8 months, my relationship fell out, and it was L* and S* who were there for me. Holding my hand when i hurt, wiping my tears when i couldn't see through them, and whispering consolations to me.
This is where L* became...different. He saw me cry, and ever since then, he acted different towards me. He acted like it didn't matter who was around, he layed across my lap, brushed my hair, acted like no one else existed...and i cried myself to sleep.
One night we were together, he drove me out past town, to a service road half hidden by trees and overgrown grass, and we came to a boarded up trashy white house. He took out a flashlight and we navigated through the house. We came to a room where it was relatively clean. He lit a few candles, and spread a blanket on the floor. We talked for hours...and held each other, like we were together. Then, all the pieces fell into place as he pulled me onto him, my long skirt covering us like a top blanket. He pulled my mouth to his, and i felt...complete for the first time in a long time. There is no feeling like the feeling i become completely overwhelmed with in his presence. His body close to mine, and i want to reach into his chest and pull out the depression eating him away. I want to kill his tears before they carve salty grooves down his cheeks. He made love to me that early morning in that house by candlelight. Then he cried, and i held him...and he said he was just being stupid...and wouldn't tell me anything more.
I still do this, i see a wish flower, and wish for him. I once saw a falling star, and wished for him... the clock said "11:11,1:11,2:22" and i wish for him to come home to my arms.
This would be...now in the story.
Present time, L* recieved a minor for drinking underage, and today, Sept.06, 2005..at 8:00 am, he went to court. At 1 am this morning, he signed onto his msn messenger and asked me if i would stay with him tonight. I did. He said there was a 50/50 chance he would go to jail. I cried furiously, and he sat silent. Inside his room, he put on my favourite movie, the notebook. After a few minutes, he took my hand, looked at my right arm, horribly scarred from self-inflicted wounds, and kissed them lightly, as if trying to make them disappear. He held my hand, and eventually moved behind me, pulling me close and wrapping me in his blankets, so that he was spooning with me. From the way he laid his head, he wasn't even watching the movie. After an hour or so, he rose and began to tickle me, and we wrestled around. Once he had me against his chest and pinned, he fell silent, and asked me if he could kiss me. I asked him why he had to ask, after all... he had done it many times before, and he said...this time it's different. I wonder how, honestly.
He drove me home in silence, and when i went to get out of the car, he took my hands, and kissed them, brushed the hair out of my eyes, and a tear fell down his cheek. He turned and said he loved me. Then took off down my quiet street.
This is my love story. I read about people falling in love...staying together... kissing in the rain...but i wouldn't trade L* for anything in the world. I often wonder if we're both wondering what the other is thinking...or feeling but we never say a word. I also wonder, if maybe i do not read too much into this...but then i see the look in his eyes, the smile he wears constantly when we're together, and i feel how close he holds me. But the best part? The way he kisses me, softly, as if testing my comfort level, and slowly applying more pressure with his mouth. I know, i know he loves me. It's in his kiss, like Cher said. No one kisses me like that, no one has ever looked at me that way, ever. I know im so young, and there's so much more life to live... But i've loved, laughed, lived...i've felt the sand and sea water beneath my feet and between my toes, i've seen babies born, and watched a morning glory open, and i know, i never want anyone else.
I am green in as many ways, as my lover is red. The colors that paint my life consist of the various shades of green i can count out in his irises. The most beautiful music i could hear is the sound of his voice coursing over me. It's a religious experience. I would wait forever for him, and i cannot wait for the day we're together again.
After all, true love always finds a way.
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