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I Know About the Pain, Love
He used to have long, wavy black hair, but he cut it all off. I think it looks better this way. He wears several rings and a necklace with a little bell. It means something to him, but I won’t tell. That meaning belongs to him. It’s not my place to give it away.
I believe his hands and arms are his defining points. They are permanently marred by cuts, burns, and scars. They stand for his reckless attitude, his all-fun-and-games-until-someone-gets-hurt-and-it’s-usually-me mindset, and of course, his pain. His emotional anguish, his torture, his suffering. We are alone together.
But we are not alone.
And we are not together.
To me, our relationship goes so far beyond the depths of traditional high school relationships. Those are puddles created by a lovely spring rain next to the terrifying, deep, dark trench that is our friendship. It is based on a love so strong that it defies words and breaks down the barriers of what teenagers should be capable of feeling. It is based on his need to protect my childlike innocence. He lost his so unfairly. It is based on my attempts to comfort him, my attempts to shield him from The Pain. It would be an insult to our closeness to “go out.” Plus, who would accept the good girl and the bad guy?
But I love him. I want him in every way.
Shh. That part’s a secret.
I look closely at him. He’s smiling, but it isn’t real. A genuine smile would light up those beautiful eyes. This one doesn’t quite reach, though it would fool someone who didn’t know about The Pain. There are people out there who feel close to him, who may never understand who he really is. He could do that, if he wanted to. Hiding is a strength of his.
Hide from your fears.
Hide the cuts.
The Pain won’t find you this way. I’m sure of it, love.
Oh, his hands. I hold them, feel him shiver. It’s not cold in here, he must be scared. I trace his scars, my fingertips barely grazing his skin.
I’m at a loss.
What do I do to heal The Pain love? I can’t fix you, but maybe we can find the tools you need to fix yourself. We’ll heal your heart together.
The tremors rocking his tall, thin frame are beginning to slow. I’m not here to hurt you, honey. His whole body is slowly beginning to relax. His breathing steadies, his muscles loosenup, and soon he is completely at ease with me. I grasp the necklace he gave me, a silver chain with a single charm, a yin yang symbol. "It fits us perfectly," he told me. I look up, and unintentionally meet his gaze.
Suddenly
Our lips are touching.
It’s an amazing sensation. It’s full of all the things that we wanted to say that couldn’t be spoken aloud. It’s full of genuine passion and love and safety and just feels absolutely right.
You’re right for me.
We are not alone, but we are together. And that is how we’ll get through it all.
It’ll be ok.
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This article has 30 comments.
I loved this!! Romance is hard to write, but I'm so impressed by this piece! Their complex relationship, their contrasting pasts, their expectations are so interesting! You pulled me in and had me glued to the screen. Great job! Five stars!
Could you please comment on my sci-fi novel White Ribbon? I love your writing style and your character development and I would definitely appreciate your criticism and feedback.
...I loved it!!! Well, mostly.
I think the whole capitalizing of "The Pain" is sort of...weird. It seems misplaced. I think the piece would be much better without it, but don't go changing things that you like because of one person (:
I like the spacing of it...It gives some parts more emphasis and helps the reader understand some of the emotion behing the words...
I liked it! Keep writing!
48 articles 3 photos 606 comments
Favorite Quote:
"According to some, heroic deaths are admirable things. (Generally those who don't have to do it. Politicians and writers spring to mind.) I've never been convinced by this argument, mainly because, no matter how cool, stylish, composed, unflappable, manly, or defiant you are, at the end of the day you're also dead. Which is a little too permanent for my liking." — Jonathan Stroud (Ptolemy's Gate)
Oh. My. Goodness.
Imagine the most exhilarating feeling you can think of. That's what I felt when I read this. My heart is literally POUNDING. You. Are. AMAZING. I realize I'm supposed to be giving critique and not gushing complements, so here it is. It's very serious.
You are too freaking good.