And ive been resurrected! Im sorry...

Ive been gone for like...i dont know two months was it?

Sorry...again.

But, this is a kinda long one. And shit goes down so i mean...your welcome.

but...ENJOY!

Impulsiveness. To some it's a curse to others a gift. To me it seemed like a mixture of both. I mean if you're at your grandma's funeral and you get the impulse to pee on her coffin then yeah, its a fucking curse. But in the moments that I had with Isabelle Lightwood and impulsiveness I looked at it like a gift. A gift sent from heaven that had been kissed by God himself. And not just my impulsiveness, but Isabelle as well. She was also a gift. Now she might not be a gift sent from heaven but she was gift, a great gift wrapped in a pretty red dress.

And that gift was kissing me.

Before:

You know those hella cliche moments in books and movies where the girl and boy are madly in love with each other but they obviously don't know it yet. And the one thing that makes them realize it is a equally hella cliche kiss in the rain while some love soundtrack plays. Well we were not that. At least not completely.

I mean Isabelle Lightwood was no Cinderella, or Snow White or Belle. And I was no prince or beast. And we probably weren't going to get hitched and live happily ever after. Duh.

We were two teenagers who were dipping their toes in the adult life pool. And we were scared cause the water was cold and there are probably a shit ton of sharks in there but we were expected to swim and stay afloat. And through the preparation of getting here we skipped out on love. I mean I loved things and people and I'm sure they loved me back, the same goes for Isabelle. But we skipped out on that butterflies in your stomach, heart beating so fast it might burst in love stage. Maybe it didn't find us or we them.

But I felt things that I've never with anyone. The feeling of the hair standing on the back of my neck when she looked at me a certain way. The way my heart beat faster when she was near me. All these small things that are now huge, because they were getting thrown at me at bullet speed all at once.

You are taught from birth all the way to death. You're taught how to speak and read and write and walk and all that jazz. Then you're taught knowledge. Then you're taught how to use that knowledge and get a job. Then you're taught how to stay sane after doing that job for about 40 years until you retire then you're taught how to relax and finally feel old and wise because you got through your run. You can watch all the kids as they are being taught the things you once learned. But they never teach you how to love.

Love is not something you can explain or write it out in an equation. So when love is thrown at you no matter if it is at 5 or 90. When love hits you it is a gradually push. A slow fall. But once you pick up speed you feel it explode throughout you in one huge beautiful bang.

I was not in love with Isabelle Lightwood and she most certainly was not in love with me. But we were young adults that were right next to each other while we dipped our feet into the cold adult life waters, and we found comfort in that.

I could say that I love Isabelle, but I could not say that I was in love with her. I love a lot of things about Isabelle, her eyes, her hair, her lips. Almost everything. I loved her laugh. I loved when she let me in, which wasn't very often.

I wonder if i can ever fall in love with her. Could you fall in love with someone you've only known for 4 hours?

Isabelle Lightwood and I were very far from Disney love stories, but right now, we were Disney movie camera ready.

We had found a ten dollar bill lying on the sidewalk, so we stopped at a convenience store and pick up two tubs of Ben and Jerry's ice cream and a package of plastic spoons. We kept two and threw the rest away.

It was around 10;30 at night when it started to rain. Various cars were speeding down the road causing us to get splashed a few times. My suit was ruined, (guess I'm not returning that.) My hair stuck to my scalp and my glasses fogged up. Isabelle's dress was soaked and heavy as it hung on her small petite frame. Her hair was damp and frizzy but her makeup stayed in place.

We laughed and splashed in puddles as it rained even harder causing us to become soaked from head to toe. The rain wasn't fun anymore once it became cold.

We realized that two soaked kids in suits and dresses would most likely be frowned upon in a public area so we kept walking, soaked in rain, eating ice-cream.

And we did it with a smile on our face. Because this is what life is about.

I didn't get up this morning and know that I would be walking in the rain, my stomach filled with ice-cream, with a beautiful girl that I met at prom. No, I thought I was either gonna get high in the bathroom, or kill myself in the gym. But I wasn't. I was making memories. A lot of people don't remember their prom. I mean my mom vaguely does, but that may be because she regrets it. My dad, whoever he may be, probably doesn't remember. Isabelle's parent probably don't remember their prom either. But we'll remember ours. Because ours was different.

Once we realized that the rain was making our ice cream soggy and gross we desperately tried to save our delicious dessert.

We saw a bus stop with a roof and seats. Quickly running too the bus stop we saved our ice-cream.

We both sat on the cold metal seat, huddling close together for heat.

She dug into her ice cream and continued to eat what was left of it. She looked up and caught me staring. She smiled.

"Having fun yet?" She asked.

"I started having fun awhile ago." I responded.

She looked down and smiled, "I'm glad."

"Are you having fun?" I asked after a few seconds of silence.

She smiled that smile that wrecked me, "Always with you."

"Good." I said nodding, happy with myself. "So when do you think we should call the night over?"

Her smile faltered as she thought about it, "When I see the sun…" she said.

"That's gonna be awhile…"

I don't know if it was because of the cold, or two magnets bringing our faces together, but we seemed a lot closer than before.

"I'm sure we'll think of something to do." She responded.

I don't know if she didn't notice it or if she didn't care but she didn't move away.

Her body was turned in my direction, her dress was defiantly ruined, her hair was soaked and tangly, her eyes were smudged and her lips were pale. But she was the most gorgeous thing I've ever seen in a lifetime of living. And she was looking at my lips and smiling. Then my eyes, back to my lips and then all over again.

There was a second of regret. But the second was so small, and it went unnoticed as I leaned down and slowly my lips met hers.

Milliseconds.

Seconds.

Centuries.

I could give details about the kiss. How her lips tasted like strawberries. How her hands found my hair so easily and quickly. How I could feel her breath when I wrapped my hands around her waist. I could. But I won't. Because this kiss, is ours. Not yours. Ours.

The regret was gone before I pulled away.

Maybe the regret wasn't even there..

THINGS ARE HAPPENING! GOOD THINGS? BAD THINGS? YOU DECIDED!

XOXO

DeadRosesX