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Practice. First attempt at creative writing. This is an incomplete drabble about being in love that I wrote for class.

I don’t know if I’ve ever been in love. The flowering meadows depicted in music and movies, art and television, the mouths of my friends, I don’t think I’ve ever felt them. I mean romantic love, of course. I’ve felt the familial love of my mother’s cool hand on my fevered cheek and her wide smile that seems the part the crowd in the airport like the Red Sea when the semester is over. I felt love for my brother when he curled up, pressed tight to my side, and shoveled colorful blocks into my hands and sight. “Gifts,” he called them before taking them back, breaking them down, and recreating whatever world he came up with in his mind. I have felt love for my friends when they dragged me out of the shadowed valley of my mind with good pizza and terrible alcohol, crowded dance floors and pounding music I hated but still felt in the deepest parts of my bone. I have felt love for them, sure, but familial is not enough. A piece of the puzzle is missing. I am an incomplete set that I can’t return.

I don’t think I’ve ever been in love, but I don’t know for sure. They say, whoever they are, that I would know it when I saw it, but I am blind. I grope along the walls, scraping the rough edges until my fingers bleed, but I still don’t let go. I cling despite the pain because I want to know, because I can’t see but I want to keep moving.

The closest I have ever been to feeling love was when I saw him.

It wasn’t love at first sight, let me be clear on that. I have known him for about two months and from the moment I saw him I was… Interested. He was cute. A smile as wide as the Nile, like my mother’s, like my brother’s, like all the people I love. He had crooked teeth like haphazard graveyard and a sparkle in his eye. But I was not in love. Even after two months of fond admiration, I didn’t feel like I knew enough about him.

It had been two weeks since I last saw him in person, though we spoke with a mutual group of friends sometimes. I wasn’t expecting to see him. He swept into the room with a flair of confidence and I was swept off my feet. Literally, I stumbled trying to put one foot in front of the other. He came into the space with his friend and he was grinning so brightly at some joke that I found myself blinded. Something sickening swept over me as I righted myself and rounded the corner out of sight. My fists twisted tight in the fabric over my chest and my stomach, as though the pressure would quell the churning. My heart stutters out a Nicki beat, a monster rhythm in my chest. The low hum floating around my head, was it the buzz of hundreds of people in one room or my blood rushing to my face?

I stayed hidden, blocking the flow of pedestrian traffic with my panic until my mind stops screaming at me. How the hell could one look shift my perspective so drastically. I am not in love. I can’t be, right? I can’t be but I might be infatuated. In my mind, I strode up to him with a smile. My shoulders are back and my spine is straight and we speak as easily as breathing. When we leave together, the heat on my face is blessing from the sun instead of embarrassment.

However, I am a coward and that isn’t what happened. We went our separate ways without ever meeting and pushed the moment from my mind. I am not in love, but for a moment, I was damn near close.

Author's Note

What do you think of the imagery? What kind of feelings does this evoke? How can I improve? Grammar corrections are always welcome

Reviews

[KT-B]

I enjoyed this write, it was such a lovely display of youthful curiosity regarding love. You write very well, it flows well and your words paint a wonderful picture - keep writing your confidence will grow, you definitely have a talent. :)

[Queen Azazel]

Thank you very much! I'm happy that you found it entertaining!