Dave could make me deliriously happy or crazy with anger quicker than anyone else I'd ever known. But when he smiled, everything else disappeared and I couldn't help but smile back. He had this smile, and I loved it. I loved his smile. Even if we were a million miles apart, I could still see that smile. Truly happy. That smile was playful, knowing, cynical, sincere, secretive and assertive; a thousand other paradoxical things all at once. That smile made me laugh when I was hurting, forgive him when I was angry and believe him even when I knew he was lying. That smile made me fall in love with him - and that was the last thing I ever wanted to do.
When he was mad, hurting, listening, his face was stone. When he smiled, though, I felt as if I were looking right into his soul. When I made him, I felt beautiful. Inside and out.
Dave was the first person I ever really loved. Sometimes, when he held me, I felt he could hear my deepest, darkest thoughts. He always knew how to say exactly what I needed to hear. He would touch my face and look into my eyes and say "I love you" with such warmth, I couldn't help but believing he really meant it.
From the first time we touched, he dominated my thoughts. Any time I would try to concentrate on something, anything, I would find it no use. I would tell myself over and over again that he wasn't the kind of guy I needed in my life, but with each passing day, I only wanted him more. I felt so out of control, so scared and so excited. I would fall asleep at night, thinking about his kisses, and wake up in the morning with his soft, magical words ringing in my ears. Sometimes, when I was near him, I would tremble. Then, he would put his long arms around me and I would relax, and feel safe again.
My instincts were in constant conflict. Trust him. Don't trust him. Kiss him. Don't kiss him. Call him. Don't call him. Tell him how you feel. No, It'll scare him off. And the finally, I would wonder if maybe that would be the very best thing that could happen.
If he was scared of insecure, I only saw it once or twice. Like the rest of his emotions, I could never tell how much was an act for my benefit and ho much he really felt. He fascinated me. I would stare into his crimson eyes and wonder if he had any idea how much control he had over me. If he knew, he never let it show.
Then, one day, it all came crashing down around me. He was gone, and as I hurt, I wondered if he ever really loved me. I had so many questions - and so much to tell him. It was like an alarm had gone off, too soon, and now my dream was over. He was gone, and all I had left were a few letter and some memories that I was to proud to dwell on. My heart cried out for him, but my mind warned me to move on. In the end, that's what I did.
I learned more from Dave than any other guy, with the single exception of my lusus. When the time and strength finally came, I was forced to take those lessons and move on without him. Time passed, life continued and I think of him less and less. But, sometimes.. My mind drifts back to the sweet dream of my first love, and I am haunted by images of his smile. I loved his smile.