Young Writers Society

After what seems like a staring contest with my omelet, I come back to reality and take another bite of my food. Such a simple question, a few words aligned together to make English, yet I have no idea how to begin to answer it. What does it mean to be “in love”?

No one ever thinks about the meaning of the phrase “in love”. It simply is. Every day people say “I love you” and “We are so in love” and yet no one understands what that truly means. Here I am trying to define the impossible. What is worse is that my only possible definition is my feelings for Silvia, but I have no method of beginning to describe that sensation.

My flustered look must have amused Silvia because she looks at me and tilts her head slightly to the red, as if waiting for my response. Her curls fall gently off her shoulder to bounce in the air, and I become distracted for a moment by the beauty of her. At this moment, I decide there is no better time than now to begin the impossible.

“Love,” I begin, peeking Silvia’s interest in my response, “is the impossible feeling that is so common and yet so indescribable.”

Sensing that I am going into a big, descriptive, impossible monologue, she sits back in her chair and rests her head in her hand. As she stares at me with those big, beautiful brown eyes, I continue my attempt at naming the feeling of love.

“No one can properly name love and define it for everyone. Instead, we use it on an individual basis, but, even then, not everyone knows what he means by this phrase. For me, being in love,” I pause, gaining the bravery needed to finish my sentence, “is what I feel for you.”

In my brief pause before continuing my response, I notice the sudden look of shock and affection on Silvia’s face. It is almost as though she knew that my response would be similar to this, but she had wanted to make sure she was correct. I gain bravery from her affectionate reaction, and I start into my description.

“When I meet the perfect woman, in the woods, on a foggy night on my way home, that is love. To see her face smile at me and tell me that she loves me, that is the feeling that everyone dreams about. If I can look at a woman and see every beautiful thing about her without a single flaw, then surely I am in love.”

At the mention of some of our previous encounters, Silvia begins to allow a small smile to cross her face. The perfect curve of her lips rising as she reminisces about our few moments together. “When I fall in love, I see every detail of perfection including the bounce and curl of your soft, brown hair. I can look into your eyes and see pools of chocolate. The feeling of having someone that I care so much about that I can sit here and tell her every wonderful aspect of her is when I know I am in love.”

“To meet a woman and know nothing about her, but from that moment, want to be everything for her. Appreciate every curve, but know that nothing is better than to hold her in my arms and tell her everything about her. When I feel as though I should run away, but I stay because I want to be with her. If I get nervous and sick, then clearly she is the one for me.”

“Seeing a life together imagined before my own eyes, that is what I see as love. Dreaming every moment of seeing that beautiful woman, and know that she is the one for me. Doing everything in my power to please her because I never want to lose her, that is what I imagine. To love a woman is to be able to imagine yourself with her. Looking past every flaw to see the truly astounding beauty below the surface, that is how it should be.”

“By sitting here with you, I have successfully accomplished the impossible. I have fallen in love with a beautiful woman and have defined what it means, to me, to be in love.” With this final sentence, I sit back in my chair, feel accomplished, and await the response.

For a moment, we both sit in silence as I analyze my unbelievable feat and Silvia struggles to make her response. Finally, she stops leaning on her hand and sits up to look me in the eyes. “I cannot believe you just said all of that. You really believe every word that you just said, and that is amazing. That was so sweet, everything that you said about me, and I am astounded at the way you accomplished that.”

She continues to stare at me as though I could not have possibly said all that I had. Amused that our roles are finally reversed, and that I am the one making her speechless, I smile and reply, “Well, believe it because you may have the looks over me, but I have the adorableness.”

This comment breaks her astounded state, and she starts laughing at my incessant silliness. “You are completely illogical at times, you know? I have no idea what it is about you, but I love it. You keep me on my top game, and I will take that challenge in stride.”

At this, we keep laughing a moment, and finally we hug awkwardly from our separate chairs. We return to our breakfast, and with this we add in some unusually boring small talk because no large conversations are needed while eating. I continue to think as we eat, and I conclude that this girl is extraordinary. Not many guys could admit that they met a girl wandering in the woods and fell in love with her, but I am one of those guys.

We finish our meal and put our dishes away. As we clean our mess, I think about what we have to do next. No more excuses or getaways are left, we must finish our game, and the problem is that the game is very scary. We do not know each other, so we are playing the game to learn about one another. Through this game, though, we are also learning about ourselves. The scariest part of life is when you learn that you are not the perfect person you wish you were.

Our game is useful in knowing each other, but what will we uncover that does not need to be unmasked? I am scared for what will happen in the questions to come. Two questions down, eighteen more to go. How many more secrets will we uncover before we finish this game, and how many more times will we hurt the other before we fully understand? The answer is only found in the game, and, dreadfully, that is our next task.