(His Side)
I once heard this story about a couple of kids. There was a boy. And there was a girl. They shared a class. And the boy noticed her. And he watched, because that’s what he was like. He saw her laugh, they way she talked with teachers and her fellow students, and her big, round eyes. Sometimes, the boy would get really lucky and she would talk to him. He was amazed by her intelligence. By her humor. He fell for her even more. And those were the days. They would play cards in class and laugh along with the other students. They talked about things happening around them, about water balloons, and boring things that they made interesting. And they helped each other through the small things, and that was nice.
As summer came in, they continued to talk, but less so. The girl always asked about how he was. And he had the same answer every time. A mundane and dismissive response. Because he has heard that question so many times, he thought it wasn’t worth answering. He knew that people never cared, they only asked how him how he was to hear him say “Alright” or “Fine”. So that’s what he always did. And the girl grew impatient. And the boy began to realize that this question was more than he thought. She was actually asking. Actually caring. She wanted to know, unlike his parents, teachers, and friends. He answered sometimes with different answers. He was cautious, never very brave.
Then the talking diminished. He was scared, scared that he would be hurt. He felt like it was one sided. He didn’t want to pressure her with his crush and he didn’t want to be pushed away. So he cut his losses, and he went back into his shell. Like he was before he met this wonderful girl. And he fell back into the lull of no talking unless spoken to.
Then school came back. Summer was over, just like that. And he was still alone. Always watching, always lonely. And then he saw her, in the same type of class. Everyone was out standing in the field, waiting for class to start. And there she was. And she brought him back in all over again. Her smile, the way she talked with teachers and students, her amazing eyes, her cute nose, and as he learned, her beautiful personality. And he waited. And waited. And finally, the moment happened. He talked to her again. And it was nice.
They started talking again after that. He realized he didn’t like being alone. He missed her so much. They saw each other a lot more and talked even more. He again, he fell even further in love with her. And then she offered to take him somewhere. A lake to watch the sunset. And he agreed, because he wanted to break from his shell.
They drove to the lake, laughing and singing the entire way there. And they brought their music down with them. They sat down by the water, skipping stones and watching the beauty drift by. And everything felt right to the boy. And just as the sunset drifted out of sight, he kissed her. Their first kiss. And it was nice.
So after that, it was “official”. They were dating. And they talked all the time. And they went out together. Like one night, where they picked a dark field from random and watched the stars go by. They laughed sometimes and sat together in silence other times. Their hands clenched together throughout it all. So they were happy and together. Some nights they laughed and some nights they cried. The crying nights were not bad, they helped a lot. They found each other. They both realized that the good things to outweigh the bad things, but vice versa the bad things don’t ruin the good things or make them unimportant.
There are so many things this girl did for the boy without even realizing it. She helped him. He now talked to his family and friends with ease. No more shell. Not broken anymore.
His college plan was to join the military. Because that’s what he thought was right. He didn’t like his life so he decided to try and let others benefit from it. So he chose military, for the high death rate. He was too cowardly to do it himself. But with her, he felt needed. Wanted even. Something to live for. So he changed his mind. He wanted to help people.
I hear that they are still together to this day. Still crying and still laughing. And the boy is still discovering, day after day of being with this girl, how much he can love her. How brave she is. He can never leave her because he never wants to, he can’t. He’s done it before and it wrecked them both. That would tear him up inside. So they stay, for each other. And they are happy.
(Her Side)
There was a girl. She wasn’t anything special, just a girl. And there was a boy. She never paid him any attention – he wasn’t much to pay attention to. But somehow, someday, that changed. It could have been the smile he wore, the way he carried himself, or the confidence he radiated when he walked in the room. She believed it was watching him perform. He was one of the school play’s lead roles, and his voice. His voice. It carried that smile. The very first word he exclaimed to the audience seemed to be all hers.
Life went on as normal: school, that class they shared, spending time with her friends. It all seemed to be perfect, but no one knew how low she was; the tears only came at night.
The end of the school year brought water balloons. A water balloon fight she organized, to be exact. And he talked to her. He made her smile. She never would have guessed that those ****** water balloons could’ve brought them together, but they did. They talked every day, and she looked forward to the end of the day when they would play cards together. It wasn’t long before he told her how he really felt. But she was scared. She didn’t know how she felt. She couldn’t remember how it felt to really feel.
They resolved to a friendship, one she thought was strong. She counted on seeing his name come up on her phone everyday as the summer progressed. They spent some time together and, among the talking, she felt more confused, but she also felt safe. There was finally someone she could talk to and someone who made her laugh.
She really cared about him. Maybe, she thought, I could give this a shot. But it wasn’t until after he left her house that day did she realize she should have kissed him.
As the regret sunk in, so did the feeling that she really wanted something more than their friendship. After that day, she asked him to come over, to go out mini-golfing, to join her for the sunset. She tried so hard; she was surer of her feeling now than she ever had been before. But the rejections came. She thought nothing of it at first. It was just his dad saying no, or he had plans, but the reasons started to sound more like excuses. And they kept coming. She thought she was trying too hard, was too overwhelming. Then his messages stopped coming. When they did, they were brief and never satisfying. She ******* up. She was too needy. He lost interest. What else was there to think? But she thought about the times he told her he loved her smile, and she couldn’t understand what she had done wrong. What had changed. What made him pull away.
She went back to crying herself to sleep each night. She would check her phone, hoping maybe she just missed it, but knew there was nothing there. The cracks slowly started forming again. She wondered how she could’ve been so blind so as to not see it coming. It was obviously her fault, there was no other explanation. She just missed him. Did he miss her too?
Weeks passed, and the cracks eventually gave way. She did everything she could to keep busy and not let it show. She couldn’t show her friends – they would never understand – and, after all, the whole thing was her own ******* fault. Loneliness ate away at her, just like time slowly consumed the remains of summer.
School started, and she was forced to see his eyes again. But his eyes were on someone else. He was a stranger to her now, and now she thought she knew his reasoning behind leaving her. Because she wasn’t beautiful. She didn’t interest him. She didn’t have anything special about her. And he knew that as well as she did. His eyes were on someone else. Why wouldn’t they be? It was obvious to her.
It seemed that everywhere she went she was tortured by his presence. Then he started talking to her again, instead of ignoring. She looked for every opportunity, until she found one. She couldn’t get too close though; falling wasn’t allowed.
Shortly after, he was on stage again. Memories flooded back, and she couldn’t help but be pulled in like last time. His voice was there. Endearing and brave. And his smile. She was sure it was meant for her.
They talked more and more, and eventually his eyes turned away from the other. She took another shot. She wanted more than anything for it to work. It did. He said yes to the sunset. The last sunset she watched that year by the lake, and it didn’t have to be alone this time. They talked as the colors faded. And then he kissed her.
That night left them inseparable. She loved him, and he gave his love in return. Happiness had returned to her life. She had someone to share with, to pass the long hours with, and to hold close to her. He was beautiful. He was hers. And they were finally happy. Together.