Fire & Ice

January 23, 2012
By Anonymous

High school means drama and new people. It brings good and bad. A boyfriend or a “friends with benefits” means another shoulder to cry on, another thing to parade around, to show off. Do you fall so hard to see what’s in front of you, or do you simply fall and trip, unable to get up off the ground? Do you find it or does it find you?

I question love and its philosophy many times in several years. One most recently catches my attention all the time. I’m an adolescent with desires just like everyone else. Could I have been much smarter about it? Sure. Judge me for my sins and beliefs in the matter? Go ahead. But any girl could be as stupid and learn from it.

Freshman year and a lot of the guys catch my attention; more so than others. When you’re at the top of the chain in middle school, you get bored because everyone else around you is either taken or younger. Being at the bottom again meant new friends, a new start, new crushes, love. A certain gentleman had caught my eye. I shared this with only few people because I was afraid of what the others would think. He seemed nice, polite. But little did I know about him.

Turns out I would be seeing him more often. The more often I went to town with friends to hang out and cause chaos, the more often him and I met, but they were mostly at night when the sun was down. We couldn’t see each other, but we could certainly talk. Heart to heart conversations were always the best way to get a good start in a relationship or a friendship. I learned so much in two nights that it made him more desirable. He preached my friends and I about bisexuality one night, I can’t remember how it started off. I regress it every now and then and think to myself, wondering if he was seeking attention or sympathy. That night it was so cold, we were huddled in a corner, gathering as much warmth as we could before we could walk home. He asked me if it was ok if he could hold me and my hands if I ever got too cold. That was when my perspective changed on him completely.

I blacked out when he touched me, almost as if it was a spark. When it was time to leave, he hugged me and then went to his car. On the walk home, I remained silent amongst my friends. I had nothing to say, really. They looked over frequently to see if I was ok, but why wouldn’t I be?

When we got home, we got settled in the basement, ready for a movie. My best friend, Micahla, had asked me if I was ok. I replied with a smile and told her, “I think I’m falling for Cam.” Cam was the boy that I had falling so hard for that night.

“How could you not?” she replied. “He’s so attractive and sweet once you get to know him. I think you guys would be perfect.”

“You really think so?”

“Please, I don’t think so. I know so. But, don’t take this personally. I think he’s not the relationship type if you know what I mean.”

I shook my head and brushed the fact off my shoulder. It wasn’t too important for me to worry about.

Weeks went by and we started talking more. But it was the words that he hid behind. The words that every girl wants to hear escaped him mouth numerous times. I would wake up to text messages that said, “Good morning, beautiful,” and he would sometimes buy me coffee. The question was did he mean them with every breath he took? We started seeing more of each other in school and every time I saw him my heart dropped like an anchor. We were in the same lunch every other day, but sometimes he would never come up to me. He would always look away. I ignored it and thought nothing of it.

As time progressed, we started texting, but he only texted me on certain occasions; when he wanted to hang out. He put too many winking faces that I got a little confused. Yet again, I thought nothing of it. I found myself lost in him.

The one day we first chilled together was when I was with Micahla. I needed back up. What if I did something stupid? What if there was something in my teeth? I was fretting too much. But there was one text message that caught me the most. He had texted me asking if he could kiss me. Butterflies filled my stomach and I was floating. I felt so jittery. This is fate; I thought repeatedly, this is fate. But that night started to go downhill when others started to show up unexpectedly.

It didn’t seem to faze him. They were just people and nothing could stop him from achieving his goal. He held me in his arms as we were hugging for nearly ten minutes. I smelled like him. It was good. And then he began to kiss my head and stroke my hair. Next thing I knew, he was kissing me on the lips.

He would occasionally hold my hands and get close to me. I felt a sense of comfort.

The day seemed perfect, until the sun began to set. His car broke down in front of a friend’s house a few blocks away. We had to walk there and it was freezing. When we got there, there were people around the car and they were trying to start the car. The hood was up and multiple people were around it.

He told me to sit next to him in the passenger side, but I remember leaning against the open door with him, holding his hand. Most of us filed in the car where it was still warm while the others left. He switched from the drivers to the back with Micahla and me. Within minutes it was just Micahla, him, and me. Micahla had said that her mom was coming to pick her up, so she left and walked away. It was just the two of us cuddling. It seemed perfect. My mind blacked out and the next thing I knew, I was walking to the elementary school where most of us hung out, by myself in the dark, waiting for my mom to pick me up, pure euphoria in my mind. What had just happened? Whatever happened, happened, and I seemed pretty pleased with myself.

But what happened that night was the beginning of the end. Word got around in school of what happened. People that I least expected had spread it like wildfire and the people that I was hoping wouldn’t find out, did. I was ruined. I was being labeled “s***”, “w****”, and everything else in between. Some people had a colorful vocabulary. I was so hurt and shocked.

Within those few weeks, I learned more about him than a friend that we shared who had been friends with him for seven years. He used to be a cocaine addict, any girl that he thought was slightly attractive or attractive enough he would try to get with them. I learned more than I wanted to. I was horrified. What had I gotten myself in to? Several times, I would cry myself to sleep and I wouldn’t get him out of my mind. For some reason, I still had feelings for him and I felt like whomever he was meant absolutely nothing to me.

To this day, I look at him every now and then and feel disgusted with myself and the person I’ve become. I reflect on this incident and realize everything happens for a reason. Maybe the fifteen minutes of fame brought me here for the same reason.

Love is an illusion that blinds us from the world. It hides its ugly traits and invites us I unwillingly. I can’t quite come to terms with it. I have no words in my vocabulary strong enough to describe it. Sometimes, it’s ugly and sometimes, it’s as beautiful as the word sounds. But beware of what it brings and only hope for the best.

The author's comments:
This piece was actually really personal and since I was a little close to my classmates in my Writing Workshop class, I decided it was decent enough to present to the class.

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