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Love is a Risky Toy, Ain't It?
The sun is a glorious thing, big and bright and round, floating in the sky for all eternity, because that was the job it was assigned so long ago, when time first began and life was introduced in the empty universe; it brought light and, also, a sense of hope.
Too bad it’s gone now.
Alright. That’s stupid. It’s not gone. Just look outside, I’m seriously not being literal right now. The sun’s still there, hanging so precariously from an invisible thread. How does it stay up there anyway? This was why I never passed a science course.
But it has disappeared from my life, in the way I never thought it could.
Imagine all the happiness in the world, gathered up onto a giant plate. Of course, when that plate is given to you, there’s nothing to do but to eat it. So you do. And then, someone comes and rips the happiness away from you, and after knowing it, you’re not too pleased about letting it go. But, alas, you have no choice.
Your life has turned bland, an empty socket, without a spark of joy.
That’s me. Don’t be alarmed—I’m not planning on killing myself, though the thought has been churning in my head the past few days… No. I can’t. That would be admitting my weakness to him, and I need him to know I’ve moved on, that I hadn’t depended on his love so greatly.
Even if I can’t stop thinking about him.
My life has become a series of thoughts—events that I’d waited for years finally coming true, and all because a new guy from a new city faraway came around the block and noticed me, sitting on the patio, reading. What’s sexy to a guy about reading? Nevertheless, he did say hi.
I should have foreseen the heartbreak I was risking.
But I was too surprised—and amazed—that I could ever get a guy like that to talk to me, especially with his stunningly good looks, the hair I had once run my fingers through, and those amazing lips, the ones I had pressed my own against on a magical night…
Tears were inevitable, I told myself as they started to fall. I missed it.
Since a freshman, I had watched happy couples walking through hallways, kissing when they thought no one was watching, talking as if they were best friends. They were happy. Naturally, I longed for the day I could be half of one of those couples. They seemed to have it all figured out.
Was I the only one who had let such a suffering occur?
How many months had we stayed together? Almost three, I thought. Summer was over and the school year would start anew tomorrow, if I could get out of the pigsty that was my room. It was a horrible, horrible thought that entered my mind, but I couldn’t help it—he would never even get to see the school I had described to him in such detail.
Because it was no fault of his that he had been whisked away.
Life had had enough of him, and so death took over, taking him from right under my nose, without a warning, and a piece of me went with him. Where was I without him? I could barely remember how I had survived.
Why couldn’t I ever be happy?
I spotted the book I had been reading when he first talked to me: Heartbreak River. It was just as well. I felt a sudden yearning to read it, as if he would appear again, as if his death had all been a dream and I wasn’t mourning the real thing. I picked it up carefully, making sure the tattered pages didn’t fall out.
And for the first time in a week, I left my room, heading to the patio.
I sat there for an hour, reading word for word even though I had probably already memorized the book. I felt more like myself, as if he was watching me from his place above, telling me it was okay if I moved on, telling me that when one love was taken away, another would come along and replace him.
But I didn’t want a replacement!
A movement from the street startled me, and I looked up, wondering if it was him. Instead, a boy I had often seen in school was walking by. He glanced at me, and I could see him frowning because of my eyes, red from crying. He gave me a look as if to say—it’ll be okay, you’ll see—as if he knew what I was going through.
Surprising myself, I nodded, smiled back.
It would be okay because it had to be. And that boy didn’t stop to say hi, and he could never be exactly like my true love. But, perhaps, that was the quirk about love. Nobody could replace him, because there was nobody like him.
It didn’t mean someone better wouldn’t come along.