I love you 'A' and I will always do

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Romance  |  House: Booksie Classic
It is a very short story about a girl's first love and her confession to her lover about her feelings towards him.

Submitted: November 04, 2018

A A A | A A A

Submitted: November 04, 2018

A A A

A A A


 

I love you A and I will always do

I have watched a great number of romance movies trying to get to know how actually people, young couples, fall in love. It was like me trying to find the recipe of real love and see whether or not it ever really exists. I have come up with a multiplied colorful vision.  Couples who met and fall in love the very first day they met, couples who have been together and for one reason or another broke up and lived very far away  from each other for a very long period of time and out of a coincidence they met again somewhere in the world with different and new historical backgrounds and life styles and choices, yet were able to fall in love again as though it was the first time and as if nothing happened or changed at all and lived happily ever after, couples who were so much into each other and were engaged and about to get married within a couple of weeks and then separated the very so it big wonderful wedding day and decided each to go on separate directions, couples who were friends with other happily being together couples, but ended up marrying  their friend’s  fiancé, couples who pretended that they were in love for one week or one day, but they succeeded in making it through and be really together to plan a life ahead of them, …etc

There is NO RECIPE to love, YOU GOT TO HAVE your own ingredient and create your specific love story out of them that nobody else is, or will be, able to have.

My story is no much different than these I watched except that it has different characters with different names and a different setting.

All my life I had been the kind of the girl who is too much into her studies and had never had time to waste and/or live a love story of her own especially if she had never ever had or experienced any sort of love feelings towards any guy. At some points in time, I even felt that there must be something very wrong with me, with my heart. How can I be so very cold and even never be able to know how a handsome or a very so not good looking like guy should be like or what the criteria of judging  a man as so are based upon? Men were all men, and they were all the same for me, there was NO difference at all. However, if I had ever been referred to by other follow girls as being cold, definitely weird, and absolutely careless about love was that because back then  I had so much to focus on, and by that so much I would mean only and only my studies. At that time, the family was going through extremely hard times. The whole family was so much not settled down. Regular fights and disagreements were always so serious between my mom and dad over silly things.  Each time, it looked like a divorce was going to happen, and who were the victims? Of course, it was me and my two younger brothers.

Well, my whole childhood was adventurous and so not like what a normal child would have as a child life. Back then and whenever a fight took place, I would lock myself in my room, which never looked like a room at all with almost no door and only cement unpainted grey walls since it was a new house that we moved into, and either cry and pray and ask God for help or just grab a book and read. Read was the only thing I could do and the only thing that saved my sense of security in a degusting , unjust, unfair and ugly world where even parents seemed to care less about their own so desperate kids.  Read the first book and then go and pick another book and another and another, …  READING was the only option  that I had. Luckily for me, I had a brother who used to work in a library who brought me books that seemed quite helpful. If you ever are wondering about the brother who worked in a library, well it is because my mother is the second wife and my father had already had other children with his first wife and you may now come to a better conclusion about the endless number of fights they used to have each day. All in all, the family story is a too complicated story to talk about if we are to talk about how come my father did ever get married to two women? And how many kids did he have back then with his first wife? And so on… etc.  I‘d rather prefer to skip this part and focus on me as long as my parents brought to life and it is not of that big deal of importance to ask who did my father love first and/or second and other similar questions that any old lady would ask you once you meet in a family event be it death, or a marriage or whatever the sort of the event was.

Back to me, and to the topic of love. It seemed that I survived to live without love for so long and I considered that, still do, as a blessing from God for I had seen stories of some friends who were deeply in love and I felt like that they suffered a tremendous and immense power of pain . I saw them fight too, cry, disagree all the time; and I thought that if I were in their shoes that could really clearly very badly effect my studies in a terrible and horrific way, and I needed my studies the most. I needed my studies more than I ever needed anybody or anything else in the whole universe.

It was all until after my 1st graduation and then my post-graduation, M.A, that I started to have some feelings and begun to have the criteria for judging men by. Nonetheless, I had a somehow specific criterion of my own. Unlike almost the majority of girls, I focused more on the inside of the person like if he seemed to have a caring heart, if he seemed to have  a unique way of dealing with women or not, and if he treated them like any other person of his follow men, and so on and so forth.

In fact, I did find the man of my dreams and I just met the vey exact man that I have always been looking for. The way it stated was incredibly great. As a full time teacher and during the period of the exams; one day I was so exhausted, tired, and most importantly hungry, I remember I was logged into my facebook account and I just sent him, that person, a message saying hi and that I am tired and all of the above, he insisted on bringing me lunch and I, out of timidity, I insisted saying ‘‘No, don’t bother yourself please’’ and in the end he won. It was Pizza that marked the beginning of my love story.

I will never forget that day as long as I will live. We met quite often down the hall or while one of us going up stairs and the other down stairs and we both gave each other some kind of a child’s smile. It was as if we were meant to meet and be in the same place very often and I enjoyed that very much and now it is very hard for me to have my day go without me seeing him. I felt he had a soft heart, and that he was the person who had good intentions for other  people. The sparkle in his eyes whenever we were talking and had this eye to eye contact that sometimes lasts long and sometimes avoided by me as I was afraid he would notice my weakness, he would read me like someone does read a book, said it all. Each time I see him, I feel like there is a voice deep inside telling me that this is your match. This is what you have been looking for girl. He is the one.

As time passed by, I started to love him even more and was afraid to tell for in our society it was considered, still is, as something totally wrong to confess that you love someone. It could sometimes even be thought of as a sin especially if you were a woman. So I kept it all along in my heart and felt satisfied just to watch from a distance. Yet, each day, was a new challenge for me, a new battle field where I was thrown into the battlefield unarmed and all alone only by myself without weapons to fight back a huge, very powerful and giant enemy. I tried to fight all the ideas that kept ringing in my mind, I tried my best  to fight  the so demanding ego that kept giving me so authoritative orders of me going and telling him these three agonizing torturing slaughtering word:  ‘‘I LOVE YOU’’.

(…)

In the end I gave up, I surrendered, I was defeated. I told him about my love for him, about how pure, how honest, how real, how true my love is for him. Based on the body language, the eye contact movement, his way of talking to me, I always thought that he loved and cared about me and how I feel towards him. I thought I mattered to him, but it all turned out that he had a past that I am not and will never ever be interested in nor to hear or talk about. All that I wanted to have is him. I wanted to share the rest of my life with that very same person who brought me pizza and have kids that would carry both my and his blood in the flesh of their bodies. I so desperately wanted him and wanted to be with him.

He told me that he is divorced and sometimes engaged which is the thing I do not understand yet. ‘It is very alright with me’, I considered. He is not the first man that has ever been divorced. We can start over again. There is always hope for new beginnings. There is always something good and beautiful out there that we have not found yet. I was, still is, ready to give up on many things, my job, my studies, my life, my everything and would be thought of as stupid and old piece of junk woman just to be with him. I was willing to take good care of him including his parents. I would risk everything and put myself, entire life in danger just to have him by my side. I was willing to wait for decades if he wants me too until everything is fixed up. I was, still is, willing of many things if he just was brave enough and told me that he loves me too.

I realized that someone never needs to beg for love. It is either to be, or not to be like Shakespeare once said. He just unconsciously and innocently stole my heart, and I do not know what the end to all of this would be.

If I am ever asked to define what real love is then my definition would be the very exact feeling someone could ever go through when they are feeling so hungry and so desperate and so in need of food and then when they find it and the moment they put it in their mouths, suddenly, they remember that person that they admire the most in the whole world, food loses its taste. It is no longer tasteful or, in better words, it does not taste like food anymore.

LOVE IS WHEN YOU LOSE THE APPETITE TO EAT and you start to get thin and everybody notices that, and sometimes it is very hard to get the person you love, you adore, and whom you are highly fond of,  get to notice that. That is what real love is.

Yet, this definition needs to be rephrased because it only talks about one sided love for if two people are deeply in love and know that in advance or have confessed publicly to each other about their so pure and honest love, I bet that they would never lose the appetite to food. On the contrary, everything would seem tasteful even the air that they inhale would have some taste then none of the tow would ever care about whether or not other people noticing that their bodies are getting thin or thick for they both would be very busy loving each other more besides having regular fights on who loves the other more.

I hope everybody would have the chance to live a two sided true love story.

 

 

 

I lOoove you ‘A’ and I will always do.

 

 

 

 

Samia Cherfaoui

Laghouat

04/11/2018


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