A Love Story
by J. Lee
The assignment was to "write a detailed account of an overwhelming feeling or event that you have experienced."
Disclaimer: This is just a first draft, and Frosty taught us that we should just write, even if it has nothing ot do with anything.
At my current age of 17, it has taken four years for the stab of love to take its tole. Hard to believe that a cynical motor mouthed loner, ex-mall rat fell in love at the tender age of 13, bit it's none the less true. I have a tendency to never let myself realize what people really mean to me. It all started when I was a runaway. My parents had been dead for a while, my only remaining relatives were living in China, it was safe to say I'd never see them. I never felt needed and I didn't need anyone, or so I thought. I met a man, stronger than anyone I'd ever met, but when I first met him, he was weak and needed me. Me. A 13 year old with an attitude problem. I thought that I didn't need him back, but I didn't want to be anywhere that wasn't with him. I saved his life the day we met. It was the first, but will never be the last. I've saved so many lives, most people don't even know it, or I've saved them so much, they don't even bother to thank me anymore. But he'll never forget. He's not the type to need saving very often, and so he feels forever in my debt.
For a time, we traveled together, as partners. In that time he saved me more times than I'd be willing to think about, more than repaid his debt to me, but then again, I never would have been in that danger had I not been with him. Women came and went but in the end only we stayed together. When we were apart all I could think of was when I'd be with him again, or how I could make myself a better partner for him. When we were together, all that mattered was staying that way. For a while he was there when I needed him and in return I did all I could to be there for him. When it came down to it I was just too young to understand.
Every so often he needed time alone. He'd leave me with strangers, not even saying goodbye. If I was lucky, there was a note when I woke up. That's really all anyone could ask of the man any way, but I was too young. Eventually I left too. Went to school with kids my own age, and we wrote letters, or really I did, and on occasion he responded. We saw each other once in a while. One time I was even told he was dead. He wasn't, dying's not really his style, but I got to save him again. This time I saved him from himself.
Recently my school closed, and I almost got killed again. Strike that, I died. He was there when I woke up, but for some reason he wasn't the one I wanted to be there. In my years at school I found a new man, a best friend who I desperately hoped would become more, but it wasn't the same, and there came a day where that boy died. It didn't hurt as much as I thought, as much as when my first love left me. So there entered a new boy, well not really new, just seen with new eyes. He was already a friend, but became more. For a little while he was everything, but I was too busy being young to realize it. He died the same way I did, but he didn't come back.
So much has changed since I saved a life for the first time. I loved and lost too many times, but only now do I feel the pain. I was simply too young then.
When you love some one, you love all of them, including their faults. With my first love, there were just so many faults that one woman's love could never be enough. I was too young to understand this, spent too much time dwelling on it. I fell in love at 13, I finally understand at 17, but why does all the pain make me feel so much older?