do you believe in love at first sight? | Teen Ink

do you believe in love at first sight?

June 4, 2016
By socialkaysualty PLATINUM, Dover, Delaware
socialkaysualty PLATINUM, Dover, Delaware
25 articles 0 photos 37 comments

Favorite Quote:
Let us go then, you and I,
When the evening is spread out against the sky
Like a patient etherized upon a table;
Let us go, through certain half-deserted streets,
The muttering retreats
Of restless nights in one-night cheap hotels
And sawdust restaurants with oyster-shells:
Streets that follow like a tedious argument
Of insidious intent
To lead you to an overwhelming question ...
Oh, do not ask, “What is it?”
Let us go and make our visit.

In the room the women come and go
Talking of Michelangelo.

The yellow fog that rubs its back upon the window-panes,
The yellow smoke that rubs its muzzle on the window-panes,
Licked its tongue into the corners of the evening,
Lingered upon the pools that stand in drains,
Let fall upon its back the soot that falls from chimneys,
Slipped by the terrace, made a sudden leap,
And seeing that it was a soft October night,
Curled once about the house, and fell asleep.

And indeed there will be time
For the yellow smoke that slides along the street,
Rubbing its back upon the window-panes;
There will be time, there will be time
To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet;
There will be time to murder and create,
And time for all the works and days of hands
That lift and drop a question on your plate;
Time for you and time for me,
And time yet for a hundred indecisions,
And for a hundred visions and revisions,
Before the taking of a toast and tea.

In the room the women come and go
Talking of Michelangelo.

And indeed there will be time
To wonder, “Do I dare?” and, “Do I dare?”
Time to turn back and descend the stair,
With a bald spot in the middle of my hair —
(They will say: “How his hair is growing thin!”)
My morning coat, my collar mounting firmly to the chin,
My necktie rich and modest, but asserted by a simple pin —
(They will say: “But how his arms and legs are thin!”)
Do I dare
Disturb the universe?
In a minute there is time
For decisions and revisions which a minute will reverse.

For I have known them all already, known them all:
Have known the evenings, mornings, afternoons,
I have measured out my life with coffee spoons;
I know the voices dying with a dying fall
Beneath the music from a farther room.

So how should I presume?

And I have known the eyes already, known them all—
The eyes that fix you in a formulated phrase,
And when I am formulated, sprawling on a pin,
When I am pinned and wriggling on the wall,
Then how should I begin
To spit out all the butt-ends of my days and ways?

And how should I presume?

And I have known the arms already, known them all—
Arms that are braceleted and white and bare
(But in the lamplight, downed with light brown hair!)
Is it perfume from a dress
That makes me so digress?
Arms that lie along a table, or wrap about a shawl.

And should I then presume?

And how should I begin?

Shall I say, I have gone at dusk through narrow streets
And watched the smoke that rises from the pipes
Of lonely men in shirt-sleeves, leaning out of windows? ...

I should have been a pair of ragged claws
Scuttling across the floors of silent seas.

And the afternoon, the evening, sleeps so peacefully!
Smoothed by long fingers,
Asleep ... tired ... or it malingers,
Stretched on the floor, here beside you and me.
Should I, after tea and cakes and ices,
Have the strength to force the moment to its crisis?
But though I have wept and fasted, wept and prayed,
Though I have seen my head (grown slightly bald) brought in upon a platter,
I am no prophet — and here’s no great matter;
I have seen the moment of my greatness flicker,
And I have seen the eternal Footman hold my coat, and snicker,
And in short, I was afraid.

And would it have been worth it, after all,
After the cups, the marmalade, the tea,
Among the porcelain, among some talk of you and me,
Would it have been worth while,
To have bitten off the matter with a smile,
To have squeezed the universe into a ball
To roll it towards some overwhelming question,
To say: “I am Lazarus, come from the dead,
Come back to tell you all, I shall tell you all”—
If one, settling a pillow by her head

Should say: “That is not what I meant at all;

That is not it, at all.”

And would it have been worth it, after all,
Would it have been worth while,
After the sunsets and the dooryards and the sprinkled streets,
After the novels, after the teacups, after the skirts that trail along the floor—
And this, and so much more?—
It is impossible to say just what I mean!
But as if a magic lantern threw the nerves in patterns on a screen:
Would it have been worth while
If one, settling a pillow or throwing off a shawl,
And turning toward the window, should say:

“That is not it at all,

That is not what I meant, at all.”

No! I am not Prince Hamlet, nor was meant to be;
Am an attendant lord, one that will do
To swell a progress, start a scene or two,
Advise the prince; no doubt, an easy tool,
Deferential, glad to be of use,
Politic, cautious, and meticulous;
Full of high sentence, but a bit obtuse;
At times, indeed, almost ridiculous—
Almost, at times, the Fool.

I grow old ... I grow old ...
I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled.

Shall I part my hair behind? Do I dare to eat a peach?
I shall wear white flannel trousers, and walk upon the beach.
I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each.

I do not think that they will sing to me.

I have seen them riding seaward on the waves
Combing the white hair of the waves blown back
When the wind blows the water white and black.
We have lingered in the chambers of the sea
By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown
Till human voices wake us, and we drown.

I was woken up today by the pleasant warmth of sunlight shining mutely through my white curtain, instead of an alarm clock. I had forgotten I was finally at the beach house.
Rolling onto my back, I stared at the bunk bed my sister and I were sharing. My hand reached out to trace the easygoing wrinkles in the sheets. My glinting wristwatch caught my eye and it read 5:45 am. It was comforting to know I always had more time to sleep. The salty scent of the ocean drifted in lazily through my open window; I could almost taste it. A cool breeze made the wind chimes outside of my house sing a sweet tune, and the calming yet monotonous sound of waves was constant in the background. Sea gulls were crying in the sky, circling my house.
I closed my eyes. I loved being at the ocean, I felt as though all the sights and smells were built into my bones. I was just about to fall back asleep when the serene setting was suddenly broken by a swear word uttered by my sister. I took a deep breath, trying to ignore her boyish attitude.
"Good morning Celia," I said.
"Shhh, I'm playing a game. Don't interrupt me," she snapped back.
I rolled my eyes and hopped out of bed. Looking up at the 14 year old girl, I could see she had been up most of the night. Celia's auburn hair was frizzy and disheveled, and her eyes were bloodshot and half-closed. She was controlling the game at a slow pace, and her mouth seemed to be frozen in a yawn. Of course I could barely see this, because a blanket was royally draped over half her body.
"I'm going downstairs now. You should get off your game,” I said.
"Mm," she murmured. "Hey, can you bring up breakfast to me?"
"No, you can do it yourself."
"Please Flavia?"
I ignored her.
"Why not?" my lazy sister asked.
I scoffed. "What have you ever done for me?"
Shoving on my flip-flops and pushing my glasses onto my nose, I exited the room.
One of my favorite things to do while vacationing is watch the sunrise. That’s exactly what I was doing now. The trick is to wake up early and get to your viewpoint at the right moment. Hoping I was going to get there in time, I hurried down the boardwalk still wearing my pajamas.
All the shops around me were closed, the metal bars pulled down over their entrances. I felt like I was in a ghost town, being the only one outside. The biting morning air danced on my shoulders and I shivered.
Finally, the first turn to enter the beach appeared. I took off my flip-flops and moseyed down the path. The sand always felt chilly before the sun woke up, but still I stayed on its light, airy surface. Spotting a bench and plopping myself down upon the splintering wood, I dug my feet under the earthen turf.
Now I could watch the sky. It started at the horizon, then painted itself further up in the atmosphere. The heavens wove into itself, fading from pinks to oranges to yellows and even a tad of purple. Half of the sky was all warm coloured-clouds, and then it melted into the clear blue sky.
All of it was reflecting onto the water, creating a rainbow effect on its clear surface. The salt body had small waves licking at the shore, turning the earth a darker shade of brown.
While I was wrapped up in mother nature, I didn’t notice someone had stealthily slid into the seat next to me.
“Looks like you’re enjoying yourself,” the stranger said, his voice breaking the silence.
I must’ve jumped a mile, because he chuckled quietly.
“Sorry if I scared you, my name’s Michael.”
Michael stuck out his hand.
Mine was trembling, but I lightly took his, shaking it in a friendly manner. My eyes traced the veins on his hands and up his muscular arms.
“I-I’m Flavia,” I stuttered.
I looked up into his laughing eyes and forced a grin. They were a beautiful shade of green.
I must’ve frozen or something, because he politely removed his hand from the greeting. Looking back out at the ocean, I attempted to make conversation.
“So, you like to watch the sunrise too?” I asked.
“Yeah,” he answered, rubbing at his neck. “I figured it’d be nice to get out before all the people come.”
I nodded.
“I always do this when I’m on vacation, almost every day. I love the gorgeous colors, and the way the sun sparkles…” I trailed off.
“Yeah,” he agreed.
I looked over at Michael, taking in his appearance. He set his muscular, straight, strong jaw; I licked my dry lips. His hair was dirty blonde, just a bit lighter than the colour of the sand. I wondered how it felt to run my hand through it-- stop, Flavia. You just met him. But the dimples on his cheeks…
I looked down at myself, my flannel pants and baggy sweatshirt; pictured my messy brown bun and nerdy glasses framing my tired face. I pushed them up my nose.
“So, do you live here, or are you on vacation?” I asked.
“I’m on vacation, it’s summer break,” he reminded me gently.
I mentally slapped myself for asking the stupid question. Curse my awkward self.
I think Michael could sense my embarrassment, so he asked me another question.
“Do you swim?”
“I also body-surf and boogie board,” I answered, nodding.
Wait, boogie boarding? Isn’t that something children do? Well, too late to take it back now.
“I love boogie boarding,” the gorgeous boy said. “I surf, too.”
“Really? Wow! I’ve never met a surfer.”
“Well, now you know one,” he laughed.
I giggled at his lame joke.
Silence for a bit.
“Well, I best be going. Gotta make breakfast for the ol’ relatives, right?” I chuckled, standing up and wincing at my words.
“See you later, Flav.”
I liked the nickname he gave me.
“Bye Mikey,” I offered, trying to be as chill as him.
He chuckled, waving adorably.
I grabbed my flip-flops and started to head out.
“Wait, Flavia!” Michael suddenly called.
I turned around.
“Yes?” I asked.
“Will you be here again?”
“Every day.”
“Maybe that will be our always,” he whispered, referencing my favorite book, The Fault in Our Stars.
The tall blonde boy winked.
I wrung my hands and giggled nervously.
Walking away, I was glad Michael couldn’t see the big, goofy grin plastered on my face.
My God, it was hot today. The heat sat all about me as if I was in an oven, but I almost didn’t care. I was kind of looking for Michael, kind of wandering.
I plucked a Swedish Fish from my bag of candy I had gotten from the Sweet Shoppe and popped it in my mouth. There was a bit of sour sugar sprinkled on it left over from my sour belts, and my lips puckered at the biting taste. In search of a more pleasant sugar rush, I sauntered towards the strip of shops.
Standing in line for the ice cream store, I barely noticed my surroundings. I was counting out the money to buy a Two Flavour Twist Cone.
“One, two, three-”
“Here you go ma’am. Have a nice day. Next!” A familiar voice called.
My snapped up, and when I saw the blonde boy, my pulse quickened. Since when did he work here? I felt awkward, and not ready to face him. Panicking, my feet carried me far away from there at a fast pace, and I heaved a sigh of relief. But why did I feel that way? Why wasn’t I brave enough to face him? Why did I feel guilty?

Whatever, I thought to myself. I huffed and walked into a bracelet shop.
I clutched the steamy pizza box in my hands as I ambled down the boardwalk once again. Capillaries adorned the tops of my cold fists and my skinny arms.
Did I make the right decision? I asked myself.
Paying no mind to the sky, I walked with purpose onto the shore.
I was breathing heavily; I felt as though I was making a big deal out of a little situation.
The night before, I went out to order a pizza and bring it home, in the hopes of offering it as a ‘nutritious’ breakfast for Michael and I to share by the ocean. That would be romantic, right?
My relationship with him felt… different than anything I had ever experienced. I felt as though I needed to make a move, or it would be too late. Even though we had just met, I knew we really had something.
“Flavia!” Someone yelped from behind me.
I froze, sure it was Michael. He jogged to catch up to me.
“Wow, you really have a habit of sneaking up on people,” I said as he slid in beside me.
He chortled awkwardly and nodded.
“Hey, is that pizza?” He asked excitedly.
I nodded and opened the box, being greeted by a cloud of heat clashing with the frosty air.
My friend rubbed his hands together and licked his lips.
“I bought it, for us,” I muttered sheepishly, blushing.
He looked into my eyes and smiled.
“Thank you Flavia.”
We paused a second, and I could’ve sworn I saw him leaning in. But then, he gasped as if remembering something.
“What is it?” I asked anxiously.
“I have something for you too.” Michael beamed.
“R-really?” I stuttered, unable to contain my childish grin.
I laid the pizza box on the ground and waited patiently while he fiddled with a small bag. Then, he pulled out a rose.
It was so beautiful, with all its bright red petals swirling around each other, the green stem decorated with an occasional thorn.
He held it in front of him, offering it to me. I took it and inhaled its sugary fume.
“Oh, my gosh,” I whispered. “Th-thank you.”
I was so glad the feeling was mutual.
“Do you believe in love at first sight?” he asked timidly, smiling that adorable smile that stretched up to his crinkling eyes.
“Yeah, now I do.”

The author's comments:

Just a small piece I wrote; it's kinda cheesy, but who doesn't love a cheesy story?! :)

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