A Love Story [ONE]

It's freezing.

 

The air-cond has been on full blast all day long in the brightly lit classroom and no matter how tightly I twisted my jacket around me, the cold dug into my skin and clawed at my flesh. I leaned forward and slumped on my desk, closing my eyes. What's this feeling? Am I sleepy? Hungry? Just cold? I pulled my hood over my head and tried to catch a few winks before the teacher begun another pass along the cubicles. Nope. That wasn't it. The feeling still clung to me. It wasn't really because of the cold either. It was a sort of wobbly feeling. I knew that I want something. Really badly. A kind of pang inside my chest but I didn't know what to do about it.

 

I popped a stick of chewing gum into my mouth and hoped the pleasant taste of peppermint will unfog my mind so I can get back to my studies. And by studies I meant lazing around in my chair waiting for 10'oclock, recess. I eyed the egg and ham sandwich wrapped neatly in a tin plastic film. It looked delicious. But I wasn't hungry. Frustrated and out of options, I leaned back on my chair because my back was starting to hurt again. Maybe I have some kind of problem with my spine that needs medical attention. But I couldn't really care; and it would seem I cared less for myself than anyone else. Maybe I just couldn't care in the literal sense, lacking the small bit of love that makes me care. It made me feel just a little bit special. I savored that thought for a while in my head, pulling it here and there, playing with it like a child plays with an unfamiliar toy.

 

Soon, I had bored myself, and like a child, I tossed the thought away. I wasn't special. I was only one of the 7 billion other human beings in the world. Suddenly I felt gloomy again; not sad because it was not something to be sad of, but just gloomy. I now realized I had been unconsciously looking around the classroom while deep in thought. As I snapped out of it, I realized I was staring straight at her, and I looked away immediately, hoping nobody caught me. "Caught"? It made it sound like I was committing a crime, like stealing a wallet or picking a lock. But to me, it did feel like a crime to look at her. My eyes were unworthy to admire her beauty. I searched my mind for some distant story I remember about a Roman soldier and a Greek goddess; he had said something along those lines. But forget the soldier. I caught myself staring at her again. Fine, maybe a short glance wouldn't hurt.

 

She was looking down at the book she was scoring, but the angle she was facing gave me a perfect view of her. I felt lost as I navigated her beautiful flowy brown locks to her healthy red cheeks, and without warning my mind turned to thoughts that shocked me with embarrassment. But I wasn't just looking at her, I was looking past the face and into the cloud of thoughts bursting with her name written all over them. One by one, the strands of thought sneaked into my head. In the first, a memory, she was smiling as I stroked her cheek; we were sitting so close I could feel her warmth through where her legs and shoulder rested against me. It felt electrifying, but she didn't seem to mind. I almost blushed as I relived the memory, not only in my mind but in my soul. I didn't mind the air-cond anymore.

 

The next thought slipped in, a dream from a night I could not remember. We were lying down on grassy field. The sun was just right, and the earth beneath me felt warm. I turned my face on my side, she was right next to me, smiling. Her hand touched mine and I took it, holding on to it like the most precious thing in the world. But at that moment, she was the most precious thing to me in the world. I turned towards the sky again and pulled her closer, my arm now wrapped around her waist. I felt so happy. A glowing warmth was spreading from the center of my chest, like someone poured warm water inside of me. It was bliss. She pressed her cheek against mine. I want this moment to never end.

 

Then, like the end of a great fantasy movie, I was thrown rudely into the real world again. The breezy field of grass disappeared, replaced by the clammy air-cond and the low buzz of ambiance you get in classrooms. I looked to my side but I already knew she wasn't there. I squeezed my hand and it was empty. I felt the cold air of the classroom again; I felt like I had just lost everything. I rubbed the palm of my hand, tracing the lines over and over again, struggling to remember that warm feeling of her hand held in mine.