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I lay on the floor in the forest as a hooded figure started to immerge from the deep mist. My head was pounding – my heart was heaving – I couldn’t keep my eyes open. The pain was too excruciating. I sat there. Actually, I was lying down. I’m not sure which. I was drowned too deep in my grief. I needed saving, and fast. I tried to call for his help – the man walking towards me – but I couldn’t strain a single word to escape my throat. My eyes started to close slowly. Was I leaving this world? Was I about to die? That was my last thought before my eyelids closed shut.
I was drifting back, and suddenly, my eyes opened. I was in a trance; everything seemed so surreal. My life flashed before my eyes at that very second. It moved by so fast that it hardly seemed real. Just then, I noticed a shadow overtop of me. I looked up. Before my eyes there stood a tall, tanned man with crystal-blue eyes. He was wearing the same hoodie as the man who approached me in the fog. “Who are you?” I managed to say. His brilliant eyes were leaving me breathless.
“Come on, you must remember.” He said in a deep, husky voice. But I didn’t. All I could recall were those blue eyes, but I could remember when or where I had ever seen them. “…Or maybe not.” He said, disappointed. “What if I told you that the first time we met, we were barely toddlers?” and suddenly, the memories started to rush back.
We were three. I was at my preschool, sitting all alone on the swing – other children ran around, ignoring my very existence. I was all alone without a friend in the world, thinking that I would never know the true meaning of friendship. Just then I felt a tap on my shoulder. At first, I was startled, but then I relaxed myself, and looked behind my shoulder. A boy stood there with crystal-blue eyes. He took out a plastic boat from behind his back. “Want to play?” he asked. From that moment – until the day I moved to Whistler from California when I was five – we were best friends. But I’d never seen him since.
“David?” I asked, shocked.
“Yeah, it’s me.” He replied. “Long time, no see…well, for you, anyways.”
“What’s that supposed to mean? Have you been stalking me or something?”
“You could say that, but it’s less possessed.”
“Why have you been following me?”
He paused for a second. “Because I love you.” He admitted.
“But David,” I started “we were five the last time we saw each other.”
“I ran away from home the day you left. I followed you all the way to Whistler and hid in your car’s trunk when you drove all the way here.”
“You did that for me?” I asked. “You loved me that much?”
“I love you that much now.” He said without skipping a beat.
I didn’t know what to say. Was this possible? Looking at him now, I felt so distant, yet so close to him and all our memories at the same time. Maybe I loved him, too. Could I love him? Even though we hadn’t spoken once since we were five?
All I knew was that I had never fallen for anyone before. None of my friendships were as good as mine and his. None of my friendships had ever made me feel as good as ours had, either. So maybe it was possible.
At that moment, I realized he was staring at me, waiting for a reply this whole time, while I tried to figure out the answer to my feelings towards him myself. “I think that maybe…” I trailed off, but quickly caught back on. “…maybe I love you, too.” I said hesitantly.
The smile on his face said it all; he was thrilled; he was overjoyed. I asked myself on question – if he loved me so much – which was obvious due to his reaction – how could I not love him back? The answer to the rest of my life seemed to be standing right in front of me, and right then, I knew I’d never be safer anywhere than when I was beside him, right at that moment, I longed to be in his arms. “I want to be yours forever.” I said. He sat beside me – his lips on my hair – and held me tight.
I prayed that he’d never let go.