I remember the first time I ever spoke to him. His voice startled me with its deepness and calming effect. All I can remember about that very first moment was how my heart quickened. My palms grew sweaty and my focus became drastically shifted. I was in the middle of taking a test. I was expecting a boring and tedious test to take place that day, but I just remember him delivering small whispers and stealing glances at me. It was kind of nice.
My first impression of him was that he was confident. His voice was bold and smooth. He had impeccable posture and he carried himself in a way that almost intimidated me. Though, there was something about him, something off. Something that made me dislike him. In my mind, his confidence was translated into being egocentric. Something I still believe to this day.
I didn't know him, but I knew of him. I knew something about him. Of course, he didn't know anything about me. I was the girl that no one paid any attention to. Sure, I had my group of friends and I was friendly enough to everyone, but no one seemed to notice me. I liked it that way.
Even though no one noticed me, I noticed everyone. I was the girl that everyone came to for advice. I was the girl that aimed to never disappoint anyone, because disappointment was failure. I was the girl who gave people a little pick-me-up when they were down. I was the girl that people sought to be, even though I was unaware of this until a few months ago. I was the girl that lent a shoulder to the girls whose hearts he had broken.
Be mindful that this was my junior year in high school. The infamous year that tears students apart and forces them to think about their future. I thought about my future constantly, how I would move to New York with my closest friend and become a famous novelist. And when he involved himself in my life, my idea of the future fell apart. He tore my life into shambles whether he knew it or not.
High school is only a short period in everyone's lives. Four years out of 80 or even 100 years seems rather unsubstantial. Drama is stupid and unnecessary and will most likely be forgotten within the next few years. Though, it's the actual moment. It's in the actual moment that you realize that you're only a kid. That these four years are the most substantial that you have ever experienced. That you have yet to experience anything worse than devastation.
Stories get around, especially in high school. Whenever someone was suspended or snorted coke in the bathroom, everyone knew. I was no exception. My friends were huge gossips, in fact, they still are. They would inform me about who was who and who was doing what. When I finally learned about him, I paid no real attention to it. I didn't even know who this boy was. When I asked my friends, "Who the hell is he?", they just laughed and seemed so surprised that I genuinely did not know this boy who was gaining quite the popularity. They were just all stories though, and you know how those can be: misleading, judgmental, and opinionated. I didn't care about him. I didn't care about who he was.
Until I met him.
And I hate myself for caring about him, because I wish I didn't.
Now, I am quite the romantic. I've read enough romance novels and seen enough romantic comedies to know that love is a dangerous yet rewarding thing. I knew enough about douchebags and players and jealous ex girlfriends to last a lifetime. Knowing that, imagine how I felt as I looked back at my experience and saw that my guard had been down long enough for love come in and keep me hostage for a quick second. And a quick second is all you need.
I got attached. Quick and fast. I told myself not to, but in the competition between your mind and your heart, your heart always wins.
My memory is a bit terrible, forgive me. There are only a few things that I remember, and the first time I met him is one of them. It's the only vivid memory in my collection of thoughts. However, there are some other thoughts that will never leave my mind, no matter how hard I try. Maybe I just don't want them to leave.
I remember his eyes. They were the warm chocolate brown that made your insides smile. I remember his height; his tall physique overshadowed and engulfed me with every hug we shared. I remember his smile. His brilliant teeth and his crinkled eyes lit up any room with all of its glory. I remember the way he made my heart pound. The thought of him intensified my crave for his touch. I remember the way he looked at me. His eyes stared deep, reading every inch of my intricate mind. I remember the way I thought of him. My skepticism chained my emotions so tight that they eventually exploded. I remember the way I fell. His oozing confidence soared and made me less aware of who I was becoming. I remember the way I rejected him. His utter determination made me forget how much I aimed to resist him.
I remember the way he hurt me. The dreaded text messages and late night phone calls pierced my heart as salt was poured into my wounds. I remember the way I avoided him. Looking straight with my head held high and my confidence low. I remember the way I sought to regain my independence from him. If one smile was sent my way, I was back to square one.
And with all the things I can remember, I forget his voice.
I forget the way he tricked me into letting my guard down. I forget the way he took his calloused hands into mine and held them tight. I forget the way he dropped all of his plans for me. I forget the way he would dress to impress me. I forget how he would give me little mementos every day. I forget how he would annoy me just so that he could apologize to me. I forget how mad he made me. And boy do I wish I could forget how happy he made me.
I uploaded this onto Wattpad but I thought that I would post it here too. I am faileddreams on there just so there aren't any issues. I thought some of you might enjoy it.
I'm sharing this because I want people to know my story and my narration. Reviews are the of the least importance to me but will be appreciated if you have any comments. Thank you for reading.
