A BRIEF LOVE AFFAIR
Friday night. 8:03 p.m. Sitting on the roof of an old washed out hospital, with a boy I was so madly in love with. I still am but that can’t make someone love you back. Walking past the “Keep away” sign glued to the door on the roof makes me wonder if the universe was somehow giving me signs, I really should’ve kept far far from him. But he looked like adventure and a good time. I wanted some of that.
We listened to music on the highest level without a care in the world. I was right where I needed to be; the view from up there was beautiful. The dark skies made a contrast with the headlights of the cars, the lights of the stores lighting up the dark streets. The world kept moving, people rushing to their loved ones, some happy, and some with broken hearts. Everyone had his or her own story and I was in the middle of a perfect one.
His choppy dark blonde hair was fighting the wind to stay so perfectly misplaced. How on earth did I get so lucky? He talked about life as if we had to enjoy every moment we were given, no matter what we did with it. Live it, enjoy it, and don’t let anything hurt you. How ironic. I can’t remember everything we said; all I remember was thinking how much I wanted to kiss him. He was a poem with all the right words. His hands never stopped moving, his perfectly sculpted hands, how much I wanted them protecting mine, keeping me warm. He looked at me, I held my breath. God, I wanted so much more. I wanted him and all his flaws, his thoughts and his habits.
The weather was perfect, these humid Florida nights were starting to be something of the past. The cold weather reflecting how I unconsciously felt on the inside. Time passed of course and shortly our night was coming to an end. As long as I got more nights like these I didn’t have a problem with this one ending. I thought about how beautiful the scenery was and how he found this place. I suddenly began thinking about how many people he had brought up here before me; of course, I couldn’t be the only one. My heart sunk. I over-romanticized everything. I was so caught up in his hands and his eyes to realize how unromantic this whole ordeal was. I was another girl he fancied, another set of brown eyes to look at for a little while. I left.
Days passed. I wonder where he is now; if he ever stops to think about the effect he had on me. How he made me feel like I was his whole universe. God knows he was mine. I wonder if he found another set of eyes to look at, to hold her hand and make her feel important. He left a small spark in me that never seems to burn out, no matter how hard I try. And trust me, I’ve tried.