A couple of moments.

March 3, 2012
By bellegearhart BRONZE, Redlands, California
bellegearhart BRONZE, Redlands, California
2 articles 0 photos 0 comments

I like to remember moments. Like the first moment I listened to Led Zeppelin. Or the first moment I realized Allen Ginsberg was my favourite poet.

I remember the first moment I fell for you. It was a slight fall, one that knocked the cigarette from my hand and unsteadied me for a moment. But it was the beginning of the descent.

We were in my mother’s car. I was driving. It was before we’d gone up to the park to get high, I believe. I gave you the iPod, told you to play something. And a few seconds later, Simon and Garfunkel started playing. “Ooh,” I cooed. “I love them!” And that was the moment I could look at you and know. You were the one I'd like to be with

I remember standing under the leaves in the park, huddled together, passing the roach back and forth. I was wicked high. So high it was hard to lift my feet properly. It made driving terrible. But for some reason I managed to remember my way down the spindly hill, even though you told me I was wrong. We were deposited out on the street and I smugly smiled.

You started hanging out with my friends. Liz thought you were an asshole but amazing. She would coddle and flirt with you but I never took it seriously because she could sense the fluttering in my heart that I got when you stood next to me. Trent remembered you from somewhere. You charmed everyone else with your darling laugh. Joel didn’t like you but he doesn’t like any men that I like more then him, so his opinion is invalid.

I remember sitting in the parking lot of CVS, eating chips, and watching people that were climbing into their cars. We were so gone. I couldn’t even comprehend how happy I was. I would just start giggling randomly and you would join in. We made music.

I remember the first moment I truly fell for you. Fell. Hit the ground. Hurt my ribs. Would let you kick me and pull me back up again if you’d like. It was this morning. In your living room. Your mom was yelling at you for ditching school and sneaking me over cos you were grounded. You held my hand and played it off like we were dating, which still baffles me after over 12 hours of deep consideration. The logic is nonexistent. Where is your head most of the time, darling?

Anyway, she was clearly disappointed. I felt like she was yelling at me. I bit my lip and closed my eyes and I wanted to grab your hand again but it was covering your eyes. And you tried to talk, but she wouldn’t let you, and I heard your voice break, like you didn’t know how to breathe and you didn’t want to cry, you weren’t crying, it was just frustration building up in your eyes. You told me to ask Kassidy to give me a ride to school. I looked at your mother. “I’m really sorry.” I felt sincerity dripping from the vowels and I hoped she picked up on it because I truly was. I should have never put you in that situation, even though you initiated everything, you made all the plans.

I grabbed your hand and you squeezed my fingers and despite all of the anger that was happening, the moment when our palms touched was the most happy moment I’ve had in ages.

But when she was yelling at you, telling you how she’d kick you out, how you’d end up on welfare or some bullshit, I couldn’t help but want her to yell at me. I couldn’t help but want to be the shield in front of you, the iron to keep your eyes dry. I wanted to take the hits.

At school later that morning you were awkward around me, your fake girlfriend. I just remembered the warmth of your hand. I hugged you quickly and left.

It was in that moment that your mother was yelling at you that I fell in love with you. Stupidly, blindly, childishly, maybe not even truly. But it’s real to me. At least in this moment.

I cried for a while. Until my eyes hurt. I haven’t done that in ages. My pillow was wet. And I wished that we were sitting on your bed watching a movie like you told your mother we were going to do. That’s all. That’s all I want from you. Just a presence.

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