Plain and Simple

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Non-Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
A classic story about a girl who experiences first love but then finds herself dealing with hidden emotions, which damages the relationship, causing them to break up. Of course, that isn't the end, and the girl obviously does not want it to be the end.

Submitted: July 30, 2008

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Submitted: July 30, 2008

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It hurts. Plain and simple. While so much more is complex, this much I know.
Imran and I have a long, long, and tiring history that happened over a short period of two years. In those two years, I learned so much and developed so much strength. But in those two years, I lost so much that I still cry myself to sleep.
In Grade 7, I was put in a class with no friends. Instantly, though, Imran’s role as the class clown struck me hilarious, and he and I would joke around all the time. When I think about it, he really just teased me a lot. But that was okay, because we had other jokes and were able to have our real conversations over msn, when he wasn’t around his friends and could be just him.
We were never really friends. We kind of skipped that and went straight to best friends. I don’t know what he saw that he liked so much about me, but I feel the need to thank God for it.
I still remember the exact feeling I had when I first fell in love with Imran. I can’t remember the entire day, but I remember moments, and those moments fill my memory with bitter sweetness. It was my best friend’s birthday party. The night before had been our first school dance, and I danced with Imran once. He was so shy; he could hardly look me in the eye. It was so cute. At my friend’s birthday party, he came early and we went to her unfinished basement to play soccer. The floor was cement, and somewhere in the first five minutes, Imran’s right sock was completely red with blood.
He could hardly walk, so instead of going outside with everyone else at the party, and instead of going to play soccer in the basement again, of course, he sat and played video games the entire time. And I sat with him, just there, wanting to be as close to him as I could. I never played the games, just watched him. He was glowing, for only me to see. He wasn’t perfect, but he was truly amazing. I just wanted to feel his presence, his heat radiating off his body, keeping me warm. Those are the only things I remember. I wonder what he remembers from that day, because I know that he felt what I felt that day too.
The next 5 months of my life were filled with tears, anger, and a sadness. Imran had gotten incredibly stubborn and was, in one word, an asshole. We couldn’t be friends, but I loved him too much to let him go. At school we were enemies that would ignore each other, but on msn the real attacking began. We argued over the same thing every night. I was to the point that I wanted to just sleep and never wake up.
We went from a fight to being together in a short week. He emailed me something so sweet that I couldn’t ignore it, so I wrote him a poem, which he possibly still has today, in his bottom drawer. Without speaking we declared our love for each other, hugged, and then school was over. Summer had begun, and we weren’t going to see each other for three months. It was perfect timing: not!
He came over a couple days later. We became an item. He came over a couple days after that, and we made out, three times. He couldn’t stop announcing his love for me. It scared me to think that he was so in love with me. My feelings wavered over the summer. I came back to school and wasn’t sure if I felt the same. With time, I did, and I loved him with everything I had, but had no way to show it.
Looking back I know that I needed time to develop my love so deep, but he just jumped in. And I think that’s why he stopped so fast too. He jumped into the cold lake, and climbed out as soon as he felt the cold. I eased my way in, the water warming with my body, and stayed, not wanting to get out because the air felt colder than the water.
Throughout our ‘relationship’ we argued a lot. About silly things, but it all came down to one. Who loved who more. I battled an on-going war with what could have been depression, and started to remove myself from my friends, family, and Imran. I was falling out, and I couldn’t love myself. Anyone who has had a depression period, or close to one, knows what I’m talking about. You can’t love someone else if you don’t love yourself. Of course, I loved Imran, and I still do. They aren’t lying when they say your first true love never dies. But I was not in love with him, and that made all the difference. We became strangers, and almost ten months into our relationship he broke up with me, even though it was time for me to say goodbye too.
My “depression” was at its lowest point ever when I started writing a book about these two years. I wrote down everything I am feeling now, but I haven’t done any of the in-between work yet. The self-realization that my book so far includes happened as I was writing. I didn’t realize how true the things I was writing were until I had re-read them. Now, however, I face my biggest fear and biggest challenge.
On Imran’s birthday, the "depression" went away. That’s good, right? Wrong.
I fell back in love with him. The “depression” was taking up all the room in my heart; as soon as it disappeared, old feelings came back. I almost wish I could have the "depression" back, but what good would that do? I don’t know who I am anymore. I don’t know how to be who I was before Imran, before Grade 7. My unconditional happiness is gone, gone with the wind.
I still love him. It hasn’t even been a month since he broke up with me. I still cry a lot, only because I know I didn’t make the best of what we had. I almost wish that I could have a second chance. I know that I’d be able to make things better. But Imran is gone, gone with the wind, just like myself. There are other girls, and although I know deep down in my heart that he will always love me, he has built up his palace and I am not included in his kingdom.
I could tear it down, so easily. I could force him to remember how he felt, what he said. But he’s trying to forget, and I still care about him more than anything. I will stand, in my silence, waiting to disappear before his very eyes, while he forgets. Because that is what he wants, and when you are in love you make sacrifices that you never thought you would.
I wish that people, anyone, didn’t have to go through all these things. All these feelings, tears, fights, fears, aching, all of it. Although I am not over Imran, and although I still feel all those things daily, I know so much now. I know about strength, and I know about true love. Maybe, in time, I will let go of the pain. I don’t know why he is trying to forget, but I know, plain and simple, that I never will.


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