literature

Lent Post #5: Love Story

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Five years ago on this day, a college student was asked out by a girl who had been in love with him for a long time. I've never been told the details of that encounter, except that she gave him chocolates and asked to become a couple, and the young man, keenly aware of the pain of rejection after his Christmas break-up, didn't have the heart to say no. He tried to swallow his own fresh pain and move on so he could make his friend—and hopefully himself—happy.

He sometimes has wondered if it would have worked out if she had waited a while more for him to recover. Whatever might have been, the fact is that he didn't feel romantically inclined toward her at the time, and after a month, he ended the charade. I don't fault him much for it: we all make mistakes, and the girl knew that he was still hurting. Another friend and I even tried to persuade her to wait. But, decisions were made, hearts were broken, and all we could do was move on. I said a prayer that they would both find someone to love. I think I still kind of hoped at the time that they would get back together.

As I've said before, God has an ironic sense of humor.

My best friend and I had been attached at the hip since middle school, and our college freshman year was no different. Her extroverted personality roped me into a circle of nerd friends, and I found myself frequently watching tabletop role-playing games. I preferred to do homework, write, or draw rather than participate, though. But, Christmas-break-up man didn't like people being left out, and of course he saw my tendency to hide on the sidelines as a problem. He would try to call me over to the rest of the group, but I would smile and say I was fine as I was. Intense socializing was stressful, after all. He would say "Aw" and resume his play. Whenever he saw me drawing, he would invite himself to come take a quick look, since he was an artist himself.

Some day in late March or early April, I was sketch-copying box art of Ryuubi/Liu Bei Gundam when I suddenly felt a pressure on my shoulder and heard the familiar "What are you up to?" I was used to his inquiries, but not to his arm against my shoulder, and I definitely was not expecting the spark that set fire to my cheeks. I froze and tried not to stammer as I mumbled an explanation of the chibi-fied robot on my page. A couple of other people came over to look, too, while I kept my posture and face as still as possible to hide what was going on inside. Eventually, he and the others returned to their game, leaving me to compose myself and clean up my emotions.
The primary thoughts in my head were, "Was he flirting with me? Did anyone else notice that? And crud, was that a spark?! From him?!"

I paid more attention to him after that, and I noticed that he made sad faces when I had to leave for home, that he briefly touched—no, caressed—my arm when we said goodbye. And I found myself enjoying his company, too. I tried to come up with excuses to stay on campus later instead of riding home right after with my best friend. I finally talked to my best friend about it, and she confided that this guy sometimes asked after me when I wasn't hanging out in the nerd gathering space. "Where is your partner in crime?" he'd asked, with a hint of "longing" in his voice, as she put it, that had made her also wonder if he didn't have feelings for me. We planned to wait, watch, and see.

With my best friend in on it, I was able to spend more time around my secret crush. He began to open up to me about his personal woes. I would sometimes give him a good hug when he was feeling down about his CS classes.

But, a conversation with his ex-girlfriend and another friend threw an unexpected curveball into the situation. She wasn't over my crush. I tried to conceal my feelings as best as I could while my friend poured out her inner turmoil. Then, the third friend in the conversation said something that we all regretted later: "He was really depressed after he broke up with you. Really depressed. I don't think he knows his own feelings." The ex-girlfriend shook her head and said, "No, no, I can't think that," but a grin was growing on her face.

I spent the next several minutes in my own storm of emotions. As I wrestled with the question of whether I'd misunderstood everything, I drew a picture of myself leaping into the air to fly away from all my problems. I didn't know what to do. How could I make another move on the one she was in love with if I didn't even know for sure that he liked me? I didn't want to cause unnecessary hurt.

Over the next several weeks, though, it became more and more plain that the recovering man had his eye on me. He showed a lot of concern when, outside sparring with boffer swords, I began to experience difficulty breathing in the cold weather. I puffed on my albuterol inhaler, and he came to me, asking if I was alright. "Yeah, I'm fine," I said.

He still frowned worriedly and stroked my cheek. "I don't want anything to happen to you," he said.

"I'll be fine, really."

"Okay, but please, don't push yourself too hard."

With my coaxing, he returned to sparring with the others while I rested on the sidelines. Between this, and his general tendency to plead with me to stay on campus longer, his habit of leaning on my shoulder, and how he dared to even put his arm around me, it was soon very apparent to me that, no, it had been mistaken that he didn't know his feelings. He did, and he wanted me.

I still might have held back for a while, though, for the ex-girlfriend's sake, if it weren't for the frequent emotional slumps my beloved fell into. He'd get consolation by leaning on me, talking to me, hugging me. Sometimes he was shaking while I held him. Neither of us knew, then, what these bouts were. We wouldn't know until about a year later when I encouraged him to go to campus health services. But, at the time, all I knew was that he was in pain and that my presence helped him through it. I loved his smile, his gregariousness, his concern for others, and the cute way he danced when he was happy, and I wanted to see him as happy as possible; I couldn't leave him feeling miserable--and even more importantly, I didn't want to hold back and mistakenly send the message that I was rejecting him like his first girlfriend. So, I kept my course.

My man and I started not only hanging out a lot more on campus but also messaging each other over Skype when we were at our homes. One day, I admitted to him over this text medium that I came down to the nerd group hangout area more often because I wanted to see him. Immediately, I wondered if I'd said too much. His first response was "I don't know what to say." After a few moments, he said hearing that made him happy.

I was in deep. But, his ex-girlfriend was still in deep, too. After that conversation that had sparked her hope, she began to flirt with my man, again. He didn't respond one way or another, but she kept trying. Once, our little love triangle was sitting together on campus, and she picked up his new headphones and began to play with them. That was one of the ways she flirted: by messing with his things like they were hers, too. I guess to create a sense of intimacy. But, he didn't like it, I could tell. His jaw was tight, and his lips pressed thin. He was trying not to say or do something that would hurt her feelings, I suppose. Or maybe he didn't know how to react. I finally murmured, "If you don't like it, then..."

He reached over, pulled the headphones gently but deliberately from her ears, and set them on the table in front of him. I can't remember the exact look on her face. I think I was trying not to look at her. But, she got real still and quiet. And she never played with his things, again. I think it was that particular moment that began to drive a wedge between me and his ex, one that was awkward but so gradual that it wouldn't cause a split until years later.

My best friend later told me over the phone that the ex-girlfriend had expressed to her how distraught she was that the man she loved was "so obviously in love" with me. I felt guilty, because though we hadn't been super obvious, neither had we been discreet. He and I tried to tone it down in front of her after that. We sat at separate tables while at the nerd hangout spot, and we waited to hold hands until we were walking outside.

I think the most surprising part of all of this, though, was that we still hadn't said those three little words, yet, and we hadn't directly asked each other out. I always wondered, and I asked myself at close moments if he was planning to kiss me, or finally call me his girlfriend. But, he wasn't, and that frustrated me. Not even after he was accused by campus leaders of possession of alcohol on campus and I followed him to the hearing for moral support (the charge was dismissed: case of mistaken identity). He hugged me tight to ease his stress and stop his mild panic attacks, but he still didn't say it.
I started to wonder if he was playing with me. Was I an emotional crutch? Something to be leaned on in hard times, only to later be forgotten? But, I tried to hold onto hope.

He had said several times that he wanted to go somewhere else besides his parents' house and school. That he just wanted a change of pace. So, when I was given an extra credit opportunity at a museum downtown, I jumped on my chance. I casually mentioned my extra-credit assignment, and then I said just as oh-so-casually, "You want to come along?"

"Sure," was his response. I think I saw him smile a bit out of the corner of my eye. On a warm May day, we went on our totally-not-a-date, with two lunches that I had packed and with niced-up clothes--my silky top was his favorite color. We visited the museum, first, and then once I'd written down all that I needed and he'd taken lots of pictures for me on his phone camera, we visited other museums in the city. In the gift shops, he tried on hats that didn't fit because his head is unusually large. To solve the problem, he put them on me and laughed at how "adorable" I was.

As the sun set, we snuggled up in the bus, my man holding me like he often had. Because we were close to the same height, it was hard to find a cuddle position that let me lean into him and still leave both of our back intact. We tended to shift, often. But it was so warm and tingly that we tried to hold off on moving as long as possible.
Now, only city lights lit the inside of the bus. I listened to his heartbeat, wondering again if he was planning to say something to me, because GOSH DARN IT, THIS WAS THE TIME, IF ANY! But, he wasn't. And, I thought to myself that maybe I hadn't made my intentions clear enough.

I had to be the one. I had to do it.

I lifted up my head slightly to whisper, and he shifted a bit to listen. "I love you."

"What?"

Oh my gosh, what had I done?

"I didn't hear you said," he said softly.

Frick. Maybe I should say nothing. I should say "Nothing" and let it drop. But, no, I'd come too far to chicken out.

I forced it out louder, "I love you...!" with a little squeak at the end.
He chuckled and said, "I love you, too." And, minutes later, he gently pulled my face up and leaned his down.

My first kiss was more awkward than I'd expected. It wasn't much more than our lips just kind of rubbing against each other as we tried to figure out what to do. But, he tried again, and then a third time, and we started getting some inkling of how it was supposed to go. It was elating all the same.

We didn't have time after we arrived back at campus to discuss concretely the status of our relationship, because we were met by his ex-girlfriend. Because we were so loaded and coming together, the subject of where we'd been was unavoidable--we hadn't told her our plans, of course. So, we mentioned that we went downtown for my extra credit. "We had fun," I remember my man saying, to which I thought I heard his ex mutter under her breath, "I'm sure you did."
She'd waited for him so they could walk somewhere together: either the parking lot or a campus event, I can't remember which. So, he and I gave each other a smile and a goodbye and parted ways that night without our usual farewell hug.

But, later that night on Skype, my sweetie said to me, "I guess we're official now, huh?" And I answered, "Yes." We ended with an exchange of "I love you"s.

Some may think that the ex-girlfriend was being too clingy, but I think that anyone may have reacted the way she did if given that shred of hope by a friend. Perhaps she forced things too much, like when she played with my now-boyfriend's things to flirt with him. But, who among us hasn't tried to control others at some point, whether by guilt-tripping or by obvious force? I think she learned then, far sooner than I, that trying to control people you love ends badly.

As for myself, I feel like I got a better sense of how God takes care of people. Perhaps the ex-girlfriend was unhappy for a while, but she recovered after some time. She continued being friends with us two. My boyfriend found himself less lonely after we started dating, and I found that I was drawn out of myself more. He's always coaxed me to come out of my shell; when he encourages me to try something new, or when he gazes at me for a long, sweet moment, I feel like I get a glimpse through him of what God feels for me. To me, he's one of the most beautiful creatures God ever made, a channel of divine love, loyalty, and passion. I hope I can one day grow enough to show my gratitude to both my charming knight and my Lord above.
A little late, I know, but I was busy today XD This is posted as a literature piece instead of the Journal format because it got too long << This is a true story, btw. All of it. Enjoy!
© 2016 - 2024 DreamerPenelopi
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Tundra-Sky's avatar
Aw, that was a good read - and very well written! I'm glad all ended up well, for the ex as well. It can be hard to deal with broken hearts.