blonde boy

a small story of my first time being in love

My flesh colored converse slapped the wet pavement as I stepped from the car. Looking up, the mystery of why the summer sky couldn’t be home to as many stars as the winter sky replayed in my head. Within the second I inhaled the frosty night air that singed my lungs with every breath and willed my feet to carry me forward. Taking in the people bustling by, kids playing on quarter machine rides, and the man perched against the building whose eyes darted about as he spoke on the phone, I set my eyes on the small blonde boy huddled by a tree. He wore a solid blue collared shirt with khaki pants, white socks that crept above his ankles, and a pair of beaten up black tennis shoes. We made eye contact so I flashed my usual smile. I didn’t know this little blonde boy would make me fall in love with him. I never thought he would truly make me happy. I never thought he would crush my heart into a million little shards. And I never knew I would feel this much pain.

            I continued to see the blonde boy. We became as close to each other as the seconds we spent together. He became my home that summer. I told him my story, how I’ve been hurt, what scares me, my favorite poems, and what I think of when I’m alone. I soon gave the blonde boy everything a person could possibly give to someone. I was in love. The boy promised me he’d never hurt me like everyone else has, he promised me he’d never leave. But after all, everyone leaves anyways.

            I learned the blonde boy loved to argue and could not fathom being wrong. He grew angry and discontent, but that’s just how people get, it was normal, it was irrational for me to worry or be scared. The blonde boy began to yell and call me stupid, he wouldn’t listen but would laugh when I allowed my heart to talk. The blonde boy was different. I would lay next to him and feel his hands, analyzing the small pores on his face, he was a cluster of cells I had come to love. But my love was deeper than his cells, it was his voice, his words, his heart, thoughts, soul, and everything that made him, him. It was beautiful to me that I could love him so deeply but sad because the blonde boy no longer noticed my feelings. He spat words at me, I “wasn’t the girl he fell in love with,” he said. I “never loved him,” “never cared.” I was “oblivious to what love actually is.”

            He walked behind me, in sync with my steps as I cried. Stopping at my truck, we met. I looked up and asked “have you ever wondered why the summer sky can’t be home to as many stars as the winter sky?” My tears left their prints on my face as they raced to see which one could hit the sidewalk faster. There was silence, the type of silence where your heart drops because you know you can’t save yourself from the darkness closing in around you; It’s inevitable but fighting makes it feel somewhat controllable. “Goodbye,” said the blonde boy. So as my heart withered I told him I loved him and left.

            Though I loved the blonde boy, he no longer wanted me. So at night I’m alone and I cry, and during the day I crack jokes with my friends who actually don’t like me. And I hide myself behind a painted smile because when you’re sad, people grow tired of you. I am learning how to be alone, trying to sweep up the shards of my heart through endless books and meditation. No matter where I go or what I do my mind is raining memories of the blonde boy. Holding his hand, laughing with him, and loving him. But seven years from now my cells will replace themselves. I will have never touched the blonde boy and all that will be left are the words we shared who time herself has frozen in the past. All I will have is memories of my love for the blonde boy, and memories of how it felt when my heart was shattered on the floor before me.

Author's Note

PLEASE give me honest opinions and point out any grammatical errors. thank you!!!

Reviews

[MuteB912]

You have very beautiful descriptions. I thought that using the word 'flesh' to describe the color of the character's converse was kind of odd, but that's just a personal opinion of mine (so it doesn't really require change). There are a few grammatical errors but they're easy to spot. So if you go back and reread through your work I'm sure you'll find them (if you can't spot them feel free to ask me). You do have some repetitiveness with the word 'shattered'. There are lots of words you can use rather than 'shattered'. The word isn't bad, but you want to try and avoid repetition in your poems/stories to prevent boring the reader. You can go to websites like thesaurus.com and get a bunch of words that mean something similar, or maybe even more powerful words than 'shatter' to use instead. With a piece like this, when you're trying to bring out emotion in your readers it's good to use powerful words because then, your message hits harder. Your poem has nice structure and it flows smoothly. Keep on writing!

[Zaliodir]

Very nice story poem. I can feel the character's heart shatter as you describe the different scenes. Luckily for your character, there is somebody out there who won't shatter their heart. Its part of the reason why there are more stars in winter than in the summer. Lovely poem, I thoroughly enjoyed! =)