I’ve glared into those eyes. I’ve seen the excitement, the fear, the worries, the pleasure. I know that heart beat, from my head resting on your chest. I still feel your arms around me, tight, strong, and warm. I have never felt so weak, so scared. This was love.
I swore I would never, could never. You would always be a stranger to me. We’d pass in the hall, you’d say hello, I’d smile. You’d talk to me in class, I’d giggle. We’d run into each other downtown, we’d dance. You managed to get my number. You’d send me a text, I’d ignore it. Then one day, while rushing in the busy mayhem we call life, I ran into you. Full force, my head into your plush school jacket, spilled my Starbucks, and even scratched my arm. I looked up, you laughed. The difference this time, I said hi.
I was hooked, in other words, screwed. We opened up. You became a friend not just a stranger. You became a good time, a shoulder to cry on, a drinking buddy, a safe ride home. Swing by swing you took a sledgehammer to the bricks built solid around my heart. And I hated you ever minute for it. Times were changing and I was prepared for our little fling to fizzle out.
That fizzle wasn’t going so well. The first snow fell and you were there to push my car out of snow banks. Santa came and you were there to open presents. The ball dropped and you were there to be my first kiss of the New Year. Valentine’s Day came and we danced through the mall at midnight, like we were shooting the latest Nicholas Sparks’ movie. Summer was spent in the car racing to see you. We spent Wednesday nights playing trivia at our favorite restaurant. You taught me to love watching sports. I got you hooked on being team Dan Humphrey, as the world’s newest Gossip Girl addict. We taught each other how to love.
Don’t let me fool anyone… life wasn’t perfect. We started out sharing each other with others, because the title “relationship” would send us both running in opposite directions. New Year’s morning I almost walked out that back door for the last time. Graduation night I remember screaming at each other from down the hall. We went three weeks apart in the summer, because my parents got in the way. And dare I mention the peer pressure from our friends, who thought maybe it, would be more fun for them, if we weren’t speaking?
Every love story is love. Not every story ends in death. Sometimes a book needs to be closed in order for two people to grow, to learn, and to live. What’s twenty years old when you might live to see 100? And who’s to say we won't meet in a sequel? So let me take this time to say thank you. Thank you for being the one who scared me the most. Thank you for setting my standards even higher than they were. Thank you for not always giving me what I wanted, for challenging me. Thank you for the laughs, the tears, and everything in between. And most of all… Thank you for being the boy who never really broke my heart.
