so I've actually written this a long time ago, over the holidays, but i wasn't ready to put it up yet. now, i've decided that it is appropriate to put it in. i hope you guys like it.
oh yes, and shout out to bananafreak97! am i allowed to do that? well, thank you, because without your help this chapter would not have been made possible.
Remember when I said "I have lost all hope in teenage romance"?
I now shall erase that from the record.
It's so amazing how the people you least expect make the most impact on your life. You know what I mean. I didn't think that I would ever think of me and him in a relationship— other than friends, that is. It's quite confusing to explain it, but it seemed that he liked me first, and the thought briefly ran through my head. I dismissed it, because I was still a non-believer of teenage romance; I knew it would never work. But I kept talking and talking to him— and he's quite easy to talk to, for that matter— and that thought kept running through my mind, and eventually I couldn't get it out. I keep seeing him and me together even though I know it'll never work out and I'm probably tricking my mind into thinking that he even liked me in the first place.
I didn't even single him out as a terribly attractive person. I didn't pay attention to him at all until he talked to me and after I thought that maybe he liked me I started noticing what he looked like. I wouldn't call him "hot"— I mean, he is now, but I hate saying that because it makes me sound shallow and it sounds like I'm only talking about his body. "Cute" sounds too immature, but "handsome" sounds too adult. Somewhere between "hot" and "handsome" I guess.
He has nice hair. I like it; it wasn't messy surfer-boy hair like Evan, but it wasn't short. It was somewhere between light and dark, but it was still lighter than my long dark brown hair. He had brown eyes, but again, they were lighter than mine. Not every guy can have deep, romantic blue eyes, I guess. But I still liked them. They were always full of boyish, crazy, trouble-making thoughts. They always danced around when he got excited. He had a long nose, and for some reason I just really liked it. I don't know why. I noticed it even before I noticed what color his eyes were, and I just thought he had a nice nose. Just like his smile. He had good teeth but what I really liked about his smile was that there was always something behind it. Like he was just showing you a little bit of the mischief he could cause.
And when I see him, and sometimes when I think of him, my heart does the strangest thing. It leaps into my throat and it beats like the wings of a hummingbird and it expands so far that it pulls my mouth into a smile. Not just any smile. A genuine smile, like when you get just what you wanted for your birthday, a smile so wide that your mouth starts to hurt. It's the same kind of feeling I get when I watch old Disney movies or listen to good music or when I sit outside with my family and watch the Northern Lights at the equinox. It makes you want to laugh but also to cry. And sometimes I'm so angry at him and I don't know why.
The strangest thing is, the thing I'd love to do most with him is dancing. For some reason, I find dancing one of the most romantic things you can ever do. Not like at some night club with all these sluts around you. Like in Ferris Bueller's Day Off, where he gets the whole parade to sing "Twist and Shout". Or any other kind of dancing really. Improvise. Anything. Or stargazing. I'd love to take him to Alaska to see the Aurora Borealis. They're just so amazing. Amazingly impossible to describe their magic in words. They dance across the sky, and they look like ink that has been smudged upwards. Bright green and sometimes purple and pink and blue, they make me want to cry because they look so powerful.
Our ancestors are up there. It's an Inuit story. My father is up there, and I'm sure my mother is up there. At least they're together now. Not like I remember them that well. But the idea of love reminds me of the lights dancing across the sky. Perhaps that is why I want to dance so much. Sometimes they're soft and subtle, near the top of the smudge. A sweet romance, rather like Elizabeth Bennett and Mr. Darcy. Near the bottom they're more defined and clear against the night, a romance filled with passion, like so many I see on TV. But sometimes they're hidden by the shadow of the trees, and you don't know what's going on behind. Like Romeo and Juliet, who had a hidden love so strong they died to be together. And the way the Aurora blossoms and fades and twists and coils, reminds me of the hardships of love. The Aurora is different every night, and it changes over the course of several hours. Every love is different, and it is constantly changing.
In reality, the lights are there all the time. Just like how our loved ones, family and friends, are with us all the time, living within. But they're only visible in the half of the year when the nights are longer. And our ancestors, like my parents, can only physically be with us for a while. Now they are up there, in the sky. During the cold of the night we can see them dancing together.
Just like true love, I guess. It's always there, no doubt. It just won't surface until the darkest part of the year.
i really, really, really hope you guys like it, because that is probably the best thing my hands will ever write. reviews and subscriptions are welcome! thank you!