All Nonfiction Bullying Books Academic Author Interviews Celebrity interviews College Articles College Essays Educator of the Year Heroes Interviews Memoir Personal Experience Sports Travel & CultureAll Opinions Bullying Current Events / Politics Discrimination Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking Entertainment / Celebrities Environment Love / Relationships Movies / Music / TV Pop Culture / Trends School / College Social Issues / Civics Spirituality / Religion Sports / Hobbies
- Summer Guide
- College Guide
- Author Interviews
- Celebrity interviews
- College Articles
- College Essays
- Educator of the Year
- Personal Experience
- Travel & Culture
- Current Events / Politics
- Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking
- Entertainment / Celebrities
- Love / Relationships
- Movies / Music / TV
- Pop Culture / Trends
- School / College
- Social Issues / Civics
- Spirituality / Religion
- Sports / Hobbies
- Community Service
- Letters to the Editor
- Pride & Prejudice
- What Matters
He Fell In Love Everyday
He fell in love every day, every hour, every time his eyes found hers. It was a miracle she permitted him to be in her presence. Such a beautiful creature would not succumb to only the worldly charm he possessed. He wanted to rejoice every time they kissed. He wanted to die every time she walked away form him. He wanted to murder every time he saw her cry, not remembering that at one point it was he who caused her tears.
It took a mere three days for them to fall in love. They didn’t know it at the time, but they had found life’s true passion in the other. From introduction, they became bickering housemates, as she was visiting for the first time. From bickering housemates to silly lovers, kissing on the futon on the end of his unmade bed.
He had taken her hostage from the first kiss. No longer was she a stranger in a foreign house, but she had found refuge in the arms of her young lover. They went running together, sweating in the sun and kissing in neighbor’s gazebo. They spent the days together, eating ice cream, watching movies, being with each other. They slept in each other’s arms, waiting for the moment of next day when love would finally wake.
For two months they reveled in the other’s presence. The sound of her laughter was utter perfection, and the scent of his skin was heaven. By all accounts, they were perfect. They should have been together forever at that moment. They should have shared the same future, lived the same dream at that moment. But as the summer drew to a close, so too did their romance.
The age difference was too much. When that 1 year-10 month-and 23-day age gap resulted in different grades, it was too much for her. He had applied to college, had been accepted, merely had to finish his senior year of high school. Merely, had to finish- it wasn’t necessary to maintain a GPA or progress academically; it was his soccer career that mattered to him the most, his intelligence always adequate. But she was to begin the college process in a few mere months, with the prospect of applying to numerous schools, facing rejection, and comparing financial aid packages. She was under immense pressure, and thought he understood. Never did it occur to her that he would be content with her just the way she was. Yet, she needed to study, to grow. She thought she was imperfect; he disagreed. The illusion was shattered.
She was never free of his presence. She pined for him for the next 3 months. Their families were in constant contact, and she was always aware of his existence, his new girlfriends, his disciplinary troubles. For 3 long months, until mid-December, did she yearn for his touch, for his kiss. She missed the security she had felt with him that summer. Her future was once concrete and apparent: once, she would have spent the rest of forever with him, in his arms and one with his mind. Now, she could foresee only the next week—the testing, the studying, the rigors of the life she was leading. She pined and yearned and desired his touch more than anything for 3 months, yet dreaded seeing him.
There was to be a formal dinner in a hotel restaurant, and then her family would spend the night in his family’s suites. A relatively low-key affair, but he would be sleeping the mere distance of a coffee table away from her that night. Yet, it seemed like a million light years when he remembered the way the curve of her body exactly fit his or the smell of her hair in his face or the intense pride he felt when he recalled that she had once chosen him to be her guardian—that she had once felt safe in his arms.
In any manner, the night was sure to be interesting, given that no direct communication had taken place between the two since she said her tearful goodbye, he recalled, silently wanting to die for making her cry.
He literally stopped breathing when he saw her. She was wearing a black cocktail dress with slight embellishment, an understated design that only accentuated her beauty. They made eye contact for a fleeting moment before she looked away. He wanted to take her in his arms right at that moment and beg her for one cursory glance. She, however, was merely hoping to survive the night. She almost feared him, knowing that if he asked her for anything at all—the salt, a minute to talk, her hand in marriage—she would accept. She was powerless to his love; she had to make him happy. It was the best she could do to maintain some sort of dignity while she succumbed to his every whim.
Dinner happened without very much interaction between the two. He seemed determined to catch her attention, yet she was just as determined to ignore him. After however, the two were left to their own devices. All alone, she slipped off her heels and made her way to the elevator, to the room they were to share that night.
She wanted to run to the elevator. She knew he was watching her, and she hated that she couldn’t run up to him and kiss him in the midst of all the diners. It was such a foreign feeling-- restraint around him-- since once she had trusted him with her very being. She felt the tears build in the elevator. They were freely flowing when she reached the room. She looked for her phone, to call her best friend. While it was ringing, she slipped on some fuzzy socks, the kind He had teased her for, the kind he secretly loved, the same kind he had multiple pairs of in his room in the hopes that her feet would—just once more—be cold in his room. She heard a knock on the door and heard it open; whoever just entered would have a key, and then her heart fell. She hung up the phone, threw it on the couch, and tried to wipe away her tears.
He saw her try and hide her tears; he knew she didn’t want him to see her crying. He silently scolded himself for not making her feel immediately at ease in his presence. A creature so magnificent as she should never feel ill at ease should never shed a tear for even the most insignificant purpose. But it was precisely for this reason he loved her, why he never stopped loving her. She cared, still cared, had never stopped caring. She cared so deeply about all those around her, was so profoundly affected by their happiness and grief. She was subjected to the terrors of the world around her, and experienced them so thoroughly, always fearfully. Yet, she also found herself in the midst of others’ happiness, and always found herself wanting. If all was to go well, she would soon be back in his arms, and her tears would no longer fall and she would no longer go wanting. He would be the one to protect her, the one to save her.
He walked slowly to her. She had turned around, but he still saw her reflection in the window. She looked up too, saw him looking at her reflection, and grew angry. She turned around, wanting to beat every inch of him for ogling her when she felt so vulnerable, fragile, breakable. She turned, ready to strike, but was immediately thwarted by the look of intense concern on his face.
He took a step back, hoping to avoid the blows he thought were coming. But, upon seeing her pause, took a seat on the edge of the bed next to them. He sat, waiting for her reaction, and was ready when it came. She had paced back and forth for a minute. Picking up her phone, almost walking out the door, walking into the bathroom, and finally settling down on the bed next to him, sobbing like the women who watched the crucifixion of Jesus—knowing of their salvation but regretting the means used to achieve it. He got down on his knees in front of her, lifted up her face slightly, and whispered two words to her: “I’m here now. Always.”
Upon first hearing his heartfelt message, she jumped up, taken aback and shocked. He was mandating that she recover from lost love’s battle—and enjoy her victory. After a moment’s processing, she fell into his arms once more. They were together once more. No longer would she pine for his touch because he was there. No longer would he want to kill himself for contributing to her heartbreak. In that short moment, their lives were forever changed, and they were both aware of the magnitude of the situation. Implicitly, they had pledged their lives to each other, devoted their entire being to the happiness of the other. She was no longer a broken creature.
He could have held her forever. He remembered her scent, the curve of her body against his. He felt her rise up on her toes, truly attaching herself to his body, hiding herself in his existence, and retreating from all that had so long plagued her. She was no longer inhibited by anything: she forgot her reasons for leaving him in the first place. She kissed him, at first hesitantly, but quickly growing more bold. She used her hands to explore his body, the body she had once forgotten but would no longer be apart from ever again. He reciprocated; always cautious, knowing the she was still vulnerable and only wanting her eternal happiness. He silently smiled, knowing it was only he who was protecting her now, and smiled wider when he realized the only thing there to hurt her was he. She was safe for now, and he let his guard down accordingly. He lifted her up onto the bed, remembering just how perfectly her hips fit into his arms.
And then the deed was over; they had expressed their love in the most natural of ways. They were not only physically in sync, but they were forever united. Their futures were no longer distinct entities, but the water of two streams mixing in the ocean. Her waves, tides, squalls would always plague them, but the ocean would ultimately conquer. They had consummated their love; it was complete and whole.
She rose slowly, looking for strewn pieces of clothing. Likewise, he put on his boxers, and tossed her a t-shirt from his nearby suitcase. It was totally silent, save for their muffled footsteps and the muted rumblings of hotel heating vents. She looked at her phone, noticing the missed calls and late hour. She swore, and ran to grab some form of pants. He looked at her questioningly and she explained that their families had been looking for them. He, accordingly, looked at his Iphone, saw his own numerous missed calls, and proceeded to find proper attire—not that any wardrobe would express the elation he was feeling. They were united once again, and like a force of nature, it would not be broken at will.
They dressed frantically, grabbing strewn articles of clothing and putting them haphazardly over their limbs. They ran down the hall, hand in hand, to the elevators and waited its arrival. They stumbled into the elevator, he pushed the button for the correct floor and then pushed her up against the wall. She saw the playful look in his eyes and smiled.
“I could stare at your smile endlessly”, said he.
She responded with a tender kiss with the effects radiating through their entangled limbs, creating the sort of frenzy that characterizes young love. They kissed all the way down to the hotel’s lobby and bar, stopping only to make sure they were on the correct floor. They ran out of the elevator, giggling, to the startling of their parents, who enquired as to where they had both been for the past hours. They smiled at each other, unable to contain the passion they had so recently shared with each other, but were unable to supply an adequate response. Was he to tell his parents he had just made love to the most remarkable girl ever? Was she to tell her parents that she had just surrendered herself mind, body, soul, and being?
Their parents inferred something had happened: it had been so long since mothers and fathers had seen their respective son and daughter in the arms of the other, truly happy. His mother was the first to walk over and give her a hug: she assumed that they had reconciled, that they had been somewhere talking everything that had happened over. Her mother walked over next and congratulated the young couple. His father glared appreciatively, before murmuring a brief consent, while her father could only display a countenance of concern and dismay. At this, she walked over and whispered a few words of reassurance to her father: “It’s alright. I love you too. Just as much, and even more still.” Her father smiled, gave his only daughter a kiss, and she made her way back into the arms of her boyfriend, lover, soulmate, protector, life. The families had consented, had witnessed firsthand the effect of young, uninhibited love and passion. Mothers knew that their children would never again feel the pangs of loneliness in their sleep, suffer the qualms of despair that had plagued their happy dreams. Fathers knew that their children were growing, would mature with the other. They acquiesced in their children’s choice, feeling an intense pride in the child they had raised from infancy.
Slightly less frantic, but no less jauntily, did the two leave their parents outside the suite they were sharing. Only left was to share the news with siblings: his 2 sisters(he being the middle of the two) and her 1 older brother. They walked, taking the stairs to savor the moment, to the hotel’s gameroom/arcade. There, they found three siblings laughing, talking, and reveling in the seemingly long-lost company of friends with cheap white wine. The two walked in; he leaned on the doorframe, and she never let go of his hand. All looked at them, and the smiles plastered on their faces made it obvious what they were wanted to say. The two older siblings were immediately on their feet, themselves too remembering the bliss that was the previous summer and knowing the world was back to the way it was supposed to be. Henry’s little sister could only glare knowingly at the couple; she seemed particularly focused on their lack of footwear and her wearing of his clothes. She was evidently not happy, and didn’t trouble herself to curb his apparent displeasure. The couple didn’t mind, and in fact, barely noticed. Nothing was to dampen the night of reawakened love.
Still maintaining constant physical contact, the couple made their way down to the lobby, which was deserted given the lateness of the hour. Only the concierge was witness to the silly antics of love and passion. He settled in a comfy arm chair in the corner, and she felt more than at ease sitting in his lap, her arms around his neck and cradled in his warmth. They kissed again: he couldn’t fathom how he had survived without this most priceless of jewels anchored to his neck and she didn’t realize how very necessary his living, beating heart was to her happiness. She pulled apart just to stare into those grey blue eyes that were simultaneously probing her eyes for anything they could find. It was evident, in the countenances, in the searching eyes, in the very depths of the two lovers’ souls, that this was the way things were going to be for a very long time.
With time, however, returned his instinct to communicate through speech. He asked her, “How did I ever manage to live without you?”, and she could only respond with tears, tears he kissed away. He related the tale of their separation:
“It was the most difficult thing I have ever done— not pinning your arms to your sides and yelling at you just after you”, he paused, “left”, he finished simply. “I wanted to yell at you, make you realize that you still love me, that you will always love me”.
She put her head on his chest and silently cried over the time lost and the pain she had brought upon him; but she couldn’t bring herself to stop listening to his terror, she always listened to his angelic voice.
“I thought that if I could only make you see… But then I thought it about it: I really couldn’t have. You’re so incredible, so remarkable. There’s nothing I can make you do, no matter how hard I try. So I let you go. If you really wanted to go, I wasn’t going to be the one to drag you back to something you clearly didn’t want to be a part of”
She started sobbing in earnest now, and he held her close, whispering now.
“I did the only I could have done, the same thing you did. I let you go and gave up on everything we ever had. Only in my most special dreams did I even let myself think about holding you again.” She pulled herself up, so that she was looking blazingly into his eyes—tearing slightly, reminiscing about seemingly countless lonely nights.
“No. Never. Stop. I am yours forever, and nothing’s going to change that.”, she paused for a second, looking down. “And I’m so sorry. I had no idea… I couldn’t have imagined… I didn’t know.”, she said slightly hysterically. He pulled her face to his, a singular tear streaming down the godly contours of his cheek. He doubtlessly told her, “Shhhh. Mine always, because I’m not letting you go anymore.”
She smiled through her tears, and it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen—akin to the majestic vistas atop the highest, clearest peaks. At that moment, he thought of her sparkling in a stunning white dress at an altar, tearing once more because she couldn’t contain her joy. He thought of her dancing in the rain, running into his arms and kissing him hard. He thought of her holding a baby, his baby, and willed for this future to come true. He squeezed her slightly, kissing her tenderly on the forehead, as she cried the last tears he would willfully let fall; he vowed nothing would hurt her again. She could only lay in his arms, consumed in the needless pain she had caused him and silently wanting to die for doing so.
Not long later, she stood up. She grabbed his hands, and pulled him up too. She held his hands as she leaned to gently kiss him once more. She led him upstairs to the room and into bed. Not once were they not touching; the other’s physical contact seemed absolutely vital to life itself.
And they slept, waiting for love’s reawakening with the birth of tomorrow. They slept and dreamt of the other’s killer touch, so very vital to life, yet indescribably dangerous. And they slept, and were unable to imagine life without the other, for like surely would no exist in such a hellish state. And they slept, and dreamt of the future to come, of the hardships that would not triumph, of the immense joy that was surely to come. now that they were reunited.