We Weren't Written in the Stars | Teen Ink

We Weren't Written in the Stars

January 13, 2016
By A.Marcus DIAMOND, Landing, New Jersey
A.Marcus DIAMOND, Landing, New Jersey
86 articles 11 photos 8 comments

Favorite Quote:
"Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same."
-Emily Bronte

"A shadow is the most loyal friend."
-Amanda Marcus


If I dreamed of you…
And you dreamed of me…
Doesn’t that mean we’re meant to be?
If Romeo and Juliet were written in the stars…
Does that mean that we’re written in the scars?
The scars in which you saw beauty?  Are we written in them?  Those wicked, twisting, sometimes fading marks that ran the length of any hidden flesh that he could get his hands on; those stories that are written into my very being.  Are we written in them?  Are we written in every drop of blood that I shed or in every tear that I let fall from my eyes?  Are we written down like Romeo and Juliet?
You told me we weren’t.  You told me we weren’t written down like some silly characters, our lives all planned out for us by some greater being.  You told me that it wasn’t something that destiny had out for us.  You told me that those scars were simply a warning of what was to come; they were a way of telling me that things would get better and that they would eventually fade into nothing.  When you told me that, I had thought at the time that you were talking about you and me.  I thought that you had meant we were written in the scars that riddled my body.  You never straight out told me any of that stuff, always speaking in riddles.  You were a clever one, even back then.
Right now, with all of those eyes on me, I don’t have to worry about those scars anymore.  They’re covered up now, and most of them have faded into nothing just like you said.  When I noticed that the first one disappeared, I was so afraid.  I hadn’t realized what you had meant yet, so I thought that it meant that you wouldn’t be there for me anymore.  I was afraid that maybe, when all of the evidence he had left on me was gone, you would leave me behind and pretend you had never known me because the scars that you constantly lectured me about were going away.  I had thought that was why you stayed.  You had hushed my crying when I went to you about it, your eyes so bright with confusion and panic.  When you had finally figured out what I was saying you had signed and flicked me on the forehead.  It had hurt, and I had told you as much.  “Good,” you had said.  “That will be the proof that I’m still here with you.  You remember pain more than happiness, so remember that.  That and the painful struggles.”  I had been confused, but strangely, I didn’t think you would leave me after that.  I never thought about it after that.
I lived through high school and most of college being completely confused about what you had meant all those years ago.  I was confused what you meant that we weren’t written anywhere or part of any plan.  I had believed in destiny back then.  Sometimes I still think that I do.  It’s only now, years later when I’m sitting here waiting for them to call my name as valedictorian, that I realize what you had meant.  You had meant that destiny was a cruel thing, so we would write our own.  You meant that those scars would be a reminder of the bigger reminder that he was gone and that you were there now.  You meant that we weren’t controllable and that we controlled ourselves.  And you know what?  You were right.
So, we aren’t written in my scars that are almost completely faded away.  We aren’t part of destiny’s plan.  We aren’t like Romeo or Juliet because, let’s face it, we’re not going to be dying any time soon and we are in love, not some foolish lustful haze.  We are written in each other’s determination, love, and survival.  So yeah, maybe we are written down somewhere, but we’re written there because we’re the ones who wrote it, not some random nobody.
Here we are now.  You’re in the crowd, a smile on your face, eyes bright, and your stupid camera that I told you not to bring recording the dean’s speech, ready for me to get up.  I’m here staring at you like the love-sick fool that I am.  And you know what, I finally realized, I wrote us down somewhere.  As cliché as this sounds, I wrote us in my heart.  We weren’t foretold or part of some prophesy.  We are what we write.  So let’s write them all a good story that they will read for ages.  Let’s write our own story right here, right now.



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on Jan. 20 2016 at 9:07 am
Forever_Strong BRONZE, Auburn, New York
3 articles 0 photos 1 comment
this was a great story and i honestly love it!!