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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic
The effect love has on life.

Submitted: November 27, 2013

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Submitted: November 27, 2013



I loved her. That beautiful girl I saw across the room. The one who took my breath away. Without the slightest doubt, I know that I loved her. I think I still do in some small way. I always will. She's not that girl anymore. No longer naïve. No longer full of hopes and dreams. I am terrified I did that to her. When we met she was so happy. Yes, she hated her job. School was tough, but under all that, under the stress, the anxiety, the burdens of everyday life, she was happy. Was. Her smile lit up a room. Her eyes shone brighter than the sun. She was awkward and beautiful, shy and funny, eloquent and quiet. Naive.

The greatest crime I think I ever committed was turning that beautiful, loving girl into the woman she is today. I hope that everything she is was there before. I brought her out of her shell. I helped her become more comfortable with herself. I lead her into the light, but the woman she is now is not the girl I fell in love with.

I remember the first time I saw her. I remember watching her awkward gait. Her downcast eyes. I remember the way she looked around the room, haughty and smug, but all of that hidden behind a shy girl who couldn't let it out. I recall my nervousness. The flush of my cheeks, her eyes shining in the dark. Fumbling for words. Our first date. She was so terrified of showing any weakness. So worried we had nothing in common. All I saw was her smile.

I remember my lies. I am not perfect and feel far from it. I remember our happiness, overshadowed by my deceptions. I remember fighting for us, but never able to close that gap. The toll, the price I was paying, in pounds pressed down on her slender shoulders. The tears, the anguish and the clawing for a foothold. Holding to each other to fend off the darkness. All I saw was her smiles.

We were happy once. Sort of. Behind the lies, behind the troubles, behind the worries and difficulties of our lives, we were happy. We bathed in each others light. Found shelter in each others' embraces. Comforted, consoled, lifted, liberated, listened. She told me about her day and I heard her complaints. I heard her tearing apart her coworkers, her friends, her family. Irritated, day in and day out. I heard her grow progressively angrier. All I saw were her smiles.

Then we snapped. I told the truth. A weight was lifted, but a trust was broken. We mended the fences as they crumbled behind. We struggled, but that barrier had fallen. We were closer than we had ever been. We were happ.....we weren't. All I saw were her smiles. I avoided looking at her tears. Her anger. Her sadness. Her complaints grew longer. Her angers deeper. She was not the happy young girl I had met and I feared it was me. I feared my impact on her. I feared that subjecting her to myself had brought forth my own demons upon her pale visage. But I loved her and I yearned for her smiles. I yearned for her laughs. I yearned for her touch and her scent and the distance grew. We fell apart. My life crumbled around me as my foundation, built over these years was nowhere to be found. I fell and she left. All I saw was the pain.

I fought. I pushed. I stood up and I stood tall and I looked at her. I listened to her again. I watched her relationships. I heard what others had to say. She was angry, egotistical, rude. She was petty, hurtful, opinionated. She was different. Her friends were gone, replaced by new and yet they reflected the same qualities that terrified me. Was it my fault? Did I make her this way? Did I break her? Or was this the girl I had fallen in love with? Did she just come out of her shell? Was this her all along? And then the realization hit me. It didn't matter. Whether or not I turned her into this, I had a negative effect on her life. My pure intentions were tainted by my own touch. Sometimes love isn't a good thing. All I wanted was her smiles and I took them away.

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