How many were there?
Five… There were only five.
Who were they?
…
What were their names?
Who… What… When… Where… Why.
Can you tell me about them?
…
Who I loved was someone I admired for a while; well, not exactly admired, since I couldn't have cared less about him when we first met. Actually, now that I think about it, he was an ass when we first met. We had a few superficial conversations, and a not-so-great run in the park; but we somehow managed to fill a certain niche for each other that we didn't know we needed. Don't get me wrong, I was never attracted to him in that way, but somehow I penned our story and filled in the blanks like an author writing her own fairy tale. In my head, what we were was plenty more than what reality had to offer.
He was an Avenger, and I was just the infatuated student who was in denial, yeah; but when we were together… At the risk of sounding cliché, he was different. He wasn't like the other Avengers who could hold their own in a fight… He needed more help than I could imagine. He had good intentions though, and his spirit was unparalleled. There was one problem though: He had a past with many… Many women; and even though he turned me down gently, I guess there was a part of me that wanted us to be more.
I swear, there are moments where I felt like he felt a little something, if not something special, for the lost little Hawkingbird.
What I loved is a… Well, I wouldn't exactly call him a friend, but if I did, then he'd be a lot more than that. While our initial meeting was somewhat of a disaster—okay, a hugedisaster—we managed to find some common grounds afterwards with a twist or two of his arm. Once we started the team, we were able to witness the growth and change in each other that occurred throughout the years, and we helped each other come to terms with who we were. There were differing viewpoints, yes, and there were many things left unsaid, but there was this unconditional bond that the two of us shared, regardless of everything that happened.
Personality, humour, taste… He was the one.
He and I… We were almost perfect for each other. The only thing that wasn't perfect was time. We were never ready to admit our feelings for each other at the same time; and what we loved about each other was never enough to get us to come out with our feelings. In the end, we just had to accept that it wasn't meant to be, and so we had so we left behind what we had together.
I still don't know if I made a mistake.
When I loved was a boy I met not too long ago, though he was lost in time for a while now. He is the personification of love and youth—someone who was stuck on the fringes of time, having been lost for God-knows-how-long.
See, the feeling of young love is unique, and it's impossible to replace or replicate because we can only be at that stage once in our lives. We were innocent… We were discovering… We had adventures. We shared it all in things like our first kiss… The late nights sneaking out… The innocent walks in the park, where he would whisk me away to foreign lands and show me the world; all things that have grown to become a nostalgic love that's preserved in a time neither of us can touch; and even though we're only kids, I can say without a doubt that we were in love.
Where I loved was a boy not from this world. I honestly believe that he's not even from this dimension. We met once, and in that one time he managed to kick everyone's asses; but somehow, he managed to take me to a place that was out of this world—literally. Orbiting hundreds of miles above the world, it wasn't hard for a girl to fall for an alien boy; but that wasn't the only thing that caused me to fall for him.
It was because his personality was reflective of how our relationship spontaneously blossomed between two heroes, just as how spontaneous the team was able to get together. While I had no powers, and not nearly enough training, the thrill of being with him, fighting off Skrulls on the satellite that he called home—or at least it's what I believed it was his home—I realised that his abilities greatly surpassed mine; and I wouldn't have it any other way.
It's weird, but when people asked where I loved the most, I merely point up to the sky, and say "out there," because it was there that I was where I fell for him. It was where I loved the most—so to speak.
Why I loved was someone who passed away. In the days approaching one of our largest battles, she pulled me aside and said that there was only one thing that saddened her about being heroes, and it was the fact that our lifespans weren't going to be as long as the average person; but dying early wasn't what made her sad. It was the fact that some of them never had the chance to fall in love, nor would they ever be able to feel both and the good and the bad of love—of being hurt, and of being held.
It was only a few weeks later that she passed, and her words stuck to me. She made me see that the greatest gift of being alive was that we can give and receive, and even lose, love.
There are so many like her… Their lives ripped away before they could have the chance to experience any of it. It's a waste if we don't strive for love in our lives; and she made me understand why.
Why waste my life not loving?
Then there's the sixth.
He's not one of them.
He's all of them.
He's who I love; the one that can easily be lamented in my fantasy. He's my make believe that came to life.
He's what I love; the depth, the inside jokes—he's my best friend.
He's when I love; the new history that is being written. We're the young lovers that one day our old selves would reminisce about.
He's where I love; the person I'd go anywhere for, just to have the opportunity to have my breath taken away again.
He's why I love; the one that made me understand what I was looking for.
Now that we found each other, he's given my past, present, and future some semblance of meaning when it comes to love.
He's the sixth.
He's my last.