There he was. A living dream, a breathing fantasy, a beautiful memory, now standing right in front of me.
At the pier
Here I am. A regular girl, regular height, regular weight, had regular friends, was expected to be ordinary, nothing really to me. I had a mouth, I spoke. I had ears I listened. That’s the only thing anybody ever thought I was capable of, until I proved them wrong.
It was that summer.
The sky glistened like flames.
The clouds crowded the sun.
Everything was hot, humid, sticky.
My lungs felt like they might collapse into my chest with each puff of air.
But this was home.
And despite all the discomfort it felt good to be home.
I didn’t believe in love.
There was no use.
Love was love, hate was hate.
You had one or the other.
I chose hate.
I always had.
And at that point I believed I always would.
My hair felt damp, even though I knew It was only the weather.
It hung from my head like filth.
All tangley and stringy.
And my eyes reflected cool crisp colors of the gray blue sky.
There was a smell of rain that lingered in the air.
I was ready for it.
I had always loved the rain.
The way it pounded tin roofs, gave water to the thirsty plants, the way it spoke.
The way it spoke to me.
Rain always meant a second chance.
It would clean the slate so you could start fresh, new.
It spoke of hope, it spoke of joy, it spoke of a new beginning.
That was all I needed.
All I wanted was a new beginning.
So I waited for the rain.
There’s a boy.
He has sea green eyes.
Rose cheeks, like the sun at dawn.
His smile almost knocks me to my knees.
He just glanced at me.
And that stare.
That one stare.
Made my heart thump uncontrolably.
That one stare.
Made my tongue knot up in the back of my throat.
That one stare.
Made me see stars.
It was hard not to.
I had never done this, not for a boy, not for anyone.
But, I couldn’t stop myself.
I wanted this.
I wanted him to notice me.
I had to be next to him.
I had to bask in his sweet scent.
I had to drown in his soft eyes.
I had to be his.
He had to be mine.
He was standing behind the pier.
His eyes matching the waves.
His hair swaying back and forth with the gentle breeze.
Just feet away.
Then he moved.
Not just moved, but moved towards me.
I was in the line at the Ferris wheel.
It was almost my turn to get on.
If he wanted me, he had to hurry.
Then my heart sunk down to my stomach.
What if it wasn’t me?
What if he was looking at something else.
Someone else.
He was getting closer.
He wasn’t walking, more like
strolling.
But his eyes, if I wasn’t mistaken, constantly stayed on me.
Studying me?
I wonder what he saw.
I wonder if he knew that right then and there, before I even knew his name…
That I loved him.
