He and Me

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Memoir  |  House: Booksie Classic
A story of my first love

Submitted: July 05, 2012

A A A | A A A

Submitted: July 05, 2012



Even though they don't admit it, everybody wants that Jay-Z & Beyonce, that Lucy & Ricky, and that Alicia & Swizz type of love. I did. That's what I thought it could've been when I met him. I still want that type of love with him which is why I'm writing this. The date? Our names? None of that matters. Just know that on this present day it is less than three weeks until I see him again. Well when I'm supposed to see him again. He has a habit of disappearing sometimes.

Unfortunately our potential love story is nothing like the ones I mentioned before. The connection we had was comparable to Romeo and Juliet. Minus the dying and feuding. We were still star-crossed, but not all the time. There were moments it seemed like fate hated us and then there were moments when fate favored us. Like when we met. Next month will be a year since we met. 366 days, 12 months, 52.2857143 weeks, since he spoke to me. I laugh to myself when I think back to that day. When he first approached me, I was repulsed. Before him, muscular build and mahogany skin was far from my "type" but after our chance encounter he became my epitome of perfection. I didn't know it but when I said hello to him I was saying goodbye to the life I knew, I was saying goodbye to the girl I thought I was, and I was also saying goodbye to the love I thought I knew. You see, I belonged to someone else. I thought I was in love but after knowing him, I knew I wasn’t. For a majority of our story I belonged to someone else. Still I longed to belong to him. My only regret in our story, the only thing I’d change if I could do it over, is the way I betrayed my at the time significant other. I loved a he, but it wasn’t the he that had loved me.

It started on a hot summer afternoon. Well, more like evening seeing as it was 6:00pm. The location? Don’t worry about that. All you need to know is, the town we met in was unfamiliar to me at the time. As cliché as it sounds, it was “the other side of the tracks”. It was a town where crime ran rampant. I was Dorothy and it was the Land of Oz The drastic contrast between his town and mine fascinated me beyond any words could be arranged to describe. The place we met was a place I knew far too well. It was a competition in the sport I breathed, I lived, and loved. One compliment sparked our romance. If I knew what I was getting myself into, I’m not sure if I'd turn the other way and run for my life or welcome this encounter with open arms. I thought nothing of our first encounter. Like a capsule of Non-steroidal Anti-Inflammatory Drug, it took a while for the effect to take hold of me. Through a mutual friend I was told of his interest. He wanted me. I didn’t want him, yet. So I thought nothing of it. I was apathetic to his feelings for the next seven days.

Our next encounter was nothing like the first. Something, to this day that I still can’t explain, influenced me to talk to him that day. Maybe it was the summer essence. Maybe it still is. From sun set to the pitch black skies barely lit by the moonlight we spoke for what felt like all night. The darkness of night didn’t scare me like it usually did. Being next to him made me feel safe. Being next to him put the paranoia forced upon me by my mother, to rest. While talking to him I realized the first of many things about him. It was the most important realization. I was wrong about him. My assumption of him was that he was the same as all the other star athletes. I assumed he was conceited, promiscuous, lacking empathy, and most importantly lacking legitimate lifetime goals. He was humble, faithful, and caring. As the sky grew darker and darker, my heart grew fonder and fonder. His inner beauty brought to light his incredible external beauty. And boy did he have external beauty. That night and every night after, his dark skin and huge muscles enticed me to the nth degree. Heading home that night, he became my permanent image of perfection. You know, of how a man should be. He became a dream. During the night and during the day. The first instance of fate’s disapproval of our potential love was when we lost contact for a month. It was out of our control. It was also out of my control that he was on my mind from the minute I opened my eyes, until I closed them after thanking god for him every night. the 3 hour conversation we had that night changed my outlook on my surroundings. I'm not sure if it was his master plan to do that to me or if it was intentional. That’s one of the many uncertainties of this situation. For the longest time I was uncertain if I'd see him again, and then fate favored us. But there was a catch! Fate enjoyed toying with us like that. I still belongs to someone else even though I wanted him.

His message caught me by surprise. I knew why he went away for a month but that didn’t matter. A few weeks later, I saw him. There he was: 5’10 and looking as handsome as ever. We both tried to play it cool. A simple “hey” did us justice. We kissed that night. that encounter of the lips wasn’t the only thing that made my heart flutter that day. Everything about him was perfect. He said something that made my heart drop. He told me that in January he’d be gone, never to see this town again. For that night, it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. I felt naked with him, but my clothes were still on. When I say naked I mean vulnerable. I was aware of my attraction to him. He was such a big part of me. He held my heart in his hands and could break it at any moment. I never felt this way before, with anyone. Being there with him, feeling naked, bare, and vulnerable, my past and my insecurities were exposed for him to see, but by the darkness of night he couldn’t. He knew nothing of what I was running from and who I was running from. I barely knew anything about him but I trusted him. He didn’t want anything from me besides my companionship. He was content with just talking. When I left that night, I knew this was the start of something beautiful. Well something beautiful and crazy.

January came and went, but he didn’t. Thanks fate. But as fate would have it, I didn’t see or hear from him for 5 months. During those 5 months, I thought about him everyday. During those 5 months, I talked about him more than I spoke about myself. I had all these feelings, I still do. And no idea if he feels the same. Once again I received a surprise message from him. He had a way of finding me. Even now when I haven’t heard from him in 5 weeks, I know I’ll hear from him again. I have this theory as to why our cycle is the way it is. Maybe, all the times we got in contact with each other, God, life or something, was testing me. It was testing me to see if I was ready. Every time he went away, I learned or dealt with something. I'm hoping that this is the last time he disappears.

Right now the timing looks perfect. I wish there was a word better than perfect to describe him. I met someone that reminds me of him in every which way possible. Meeting this clone of him made me only one the real thing more. I think I'm ready to be the woman he needs. If he needs a woman. I’ll never know. At least for now. Our story isn’t over. As of right now, I don’t want it to end. Even if our story turns out for the worst, it’ll turn out for the best. If he out-right broke my heart, I'd still be happy. The drastic contrast of the person I was before him and the person I will be afterwards is as satisfying as him putting a ring on my finger. I anticipate that the me after him will be a phenomenal me because look at the present me, the me during him. I am a phenomenal woman. Well I'd like to think so. Before him, confidence was not in my vocabulary by a long shot.

This man was, I can’t even explain. No adjective could do him justice in describing his mental or physical being. Once our series of encounters set in on my mind, I was truly dumbfounded. I was at a loss for words as to why he’d even blink in my direction. You know that saying, “after God made you, he broke the mould”? That was extremely true in his case. When I talk about his attributes, it’s hard to explain them properly but lets put it this way: he was hand crafted by God. Well that’s what I believe. I'm going off on a tangent right now but the way I imagine his creation is while everyone else went through the assembly machine, God was off in the corner piecing him together carefully as if he were a model airplane… but back to what I was saying, he was flawless in my eyes. Why did he want me? It couldn’t have been for recreational procreation because at the most all we did was kiss, once. Looking back on the amount of thought I put into that question, I laugh. The answer to that question was so simple, but I was so blind. He saw what I didn’t. he saw the same thing many other people saw that I didn’t know existed. As vain and conceited as this sounds, I’m gorgeous. Inside and out. He saw the external beauty and ventured to find out if I had the personality to match it. It’s hard to let go of this high pedestal image I have of him. At least it will be hard until our story ends. When it does I want to walk away from the experience with my head high, my heart full, with the knowledge that I did everything I could to make it work, and the ability to truthfully say that I regret nothing of the time we spent. Our story could go a million ways. I won’t entertain my mind with all of the possibilities.

Right now, our story is at a standstill. To avoid any slander of him, however it turns out I think that’s where my retelling should end, on a neutral note. Maybe there are more stories similar to ours. Use those to create and ending to our story. Wish me luck! Learn from our story. It isn’t easy but don’t give up (within reason, like if they take out a restraining order on you, you went too far). This lesson doesn’t have to be applied only to love. If your heart wants something, give it a shot. You don’t want to be in your 70s wondering what your teenage years or your 20s would be like if you did take that chance. Pain from rejection isn’t eternal but regret is. It’s hard to forget your first love, but who would want to? In their absence, remember all they taught you. Be grateful that when you fell for them, they caught you, no matter how brief it was. Remember that things don’t happen “just because”

-To my friends, I finally got it all out of my system. I won’t be talking your ears off anymore.

-to my ex-boyfriend, when it was good, what we had was special. I was ignorant to throw the L-word around like I knew what it was. Incase you ever wondered when it started, it was always him. Ever since that summer night. I'm sorry I didn’t say it sooner.

And finally,

-To the he I was referring to, I spent these pages talking about how it was, through my eyes. I'd love to see how it will be. Know that I'm thinking about you. Know that whatever may come, I hope the best for you. Even if years down the line, I don’t have you, I’ll always have the experience, the summer, the taste of your lips, the sent of your cologne, and the memory of you. You’ll always be my vision of perfection. I don’t know what our tomorrow will be like. I guess that is another uncertainty. Wherever you are, be safe and stay out of trouble. If you ever need anything, a lover, a friend, a listener, or a wife, you know where to find me.

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