Freedom of Love

November 15, 2007
A shining smile and sparkling eyes caught my attention before my summer could start. The hellos turned into warm hugs, and hugs became soft kisses. Falling in love was never my first thought, I never even thought it would become so serious. A month passed and all my friends could tell I was “blurry” eyed for him. Besties told me that ‘Brandon’ was my life support and everything good happening was because of him. Before him I was a stuck-up, spoiled brat, very independent type of girl. I have had boyfriends in the past, but never good enough to claim.
Now it was all forming into a perfect picture. I now had someone to talk to when I failed and didn’t know how to bring my spirit up. Even the time my best friend betrayed me, he talked me through it, and helped make the relationship better than before. Although I hated his geeky laugh, football attitude, and childish Madden 07’ video playing ways; I still adored his sensitive thoughtful side.
Love, “psh!” never a word I have said and meant; more like another ‘hello-goodbye’ fake smile word to me. That night it was dark and a walk to the corner became fairy tale like. His big silky hands held tightly around my Levis jeans. As I looked into his greenish-brown eyes, he smiled and gently said “I love you”. A kiss completed the night and off I went. My phone rang sometime around 1am. On the other end of the phone was a weeping voice. The belief of love finally made sense. Scenes of the first time we met, talked, held each other hands, played on repeat in my mind. “I can’t do this anymore”, he said in a strange distressing voice. The excuse of ex-girlfriends, family and football kept being interrupted by my “whys?.”
Out of anger and hurt, I flipped down my phone, turned over twice and started to cry. It was like getting teased and trying to hide your cry from on looking classmates. The pain and embarrassment was overwhelming. He called back at least 9 times, but I couldn’t find the strength to push the SEND button on the phone. The 10th missed call, I decided to call back. He answered with no words, just sniffing and remorse. “Maybe he didn’t mean it that way. No of course he meant it”, I argued with myself. As frustrated as I was, I held on to the phone, listening as I tried to hold back my own sniffs. Sorry was too simple, I guess “baby I love you” sounded better, because every few minutes he would blubber it out. Next thing I knew I was waking up.
I believe love will make you do unthought-of things. My unthought-of dreams turned into overwhelming actions. I turned everyone off, didn’t call my other half, Kayla, for days. At work I caught attitudes to any visitors at the building. At home I ripped up old pictures, fought with my bother constantly and changed “Bran booty” to “Fav. Mistake” in my phone.
In the end we may not be able to call each other “baby” or “honeybunches of oats” anymore, but we still hold strong feelings. The hallways seem so small as we walk pass each other, both knowing things will never be the same. I believe that love will transform you for the better, if you keep that love, or lose it. I can finally see that love for once set me free from my troubles, kept me above the clouds, and stress free. Now I’m able to keep moving without looking back at the “what ifs”.

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