Swept Away

A short narrative on the moment I first felt love.

There is one feeling out there that is displayed by different people, at different times, in different ways. The one factor that cannot be denied is its overwhelming sensation on those involved. It has often been described as butterflies in the tummy; metaphorically painted to sweep you off your feet. Love.

 

I did not search for it when it first came. Oh no, it found me. And so it led to all of those jumbled up feelings that people describe through old cliches. When I met David Shultz, it just happened that way. There was no rhyme or reason. I no longer had control over my gimpy teenage emotions.

 

Summer was over. David was heading off to Tennessee for a senior trip promising river rafting and mountainous exploration, while I headed back to high school where my year-long educational lockdown was set to begin. This series of events sounds simple enough; however, when they write history books, they leave out the raw feelings of its key participants. And so my story goes. No one told me the pure scrutiny I would go through in the process of out-waiting this momentous 'senior trip,' as they like to call it.

 

Maybe it was only a three or four day trip. With the anxiety I felt over missing him, it very well could have been that amount in months; I would not have known the difference. So, after days of turmoil and dozens upon dozens of exchanged text messages in the name of keeping in touch, David's trip was coming to an end and the bus was heading back north slowly, but surely. I knew that it was a school night and his arrival would be late. The exhaustion I risked feeling the next day if I stayed out to see him would gladly be accepted over the option of waiting until 5 o'clock that next day when he got off of work. And so it was called that I would take my chances.

 

He let me know every mile marker that they hit on that bus ride home, every mile that marked him closer to me and home. Though only a few days had passed since I last saw him, it had seemed like an eternity since I stared into those deep brown eyes and was welcomed by that reassuring crooked little grin. I could not stand the separation anxiety a second more. I was completely impatient. My heart beat steadily out of my chest like that of rapid hummingbird wings keeping a heavy rhythm.

 

I arrived at the park a little early. It would take him a while to drive there from his location at the school, but I would wait. It was a typical August night: clear sky with a subtle amount of light stars parading through it, and grass coated with a bit of dew after a long day of sun bathing carpeting the ground. I sat in my car in the spot where we always met dressed in shorts to honor the fact that it was still summer, and a zip-up sweatshirt to welcome the coming coolness, while flip flops dressed my feet. He was finally on his way.

 

My eyes shot back and forth from my rearview mirror in seach of approaching headlights to my phone, in the name of communicating his coming approach. I cannot recall another moment in my life when I felt such a mix of high-pitched emotions surging through my body as when I saw his car pulling into the park. He was here at last.

 

I could not see my facial expression in the darkness of the night but I am sure that the biggest smile for hundreds of miles appeared as I opened my door and he threw his car in park. David burst open his door and half sprinted around his car before I could even make a movement, proclaiming, "GET OVER HERE!" I let out a shriek of excitement and bolted towards him in a mad-dash, wrapping my arms around his neck in what could have been seen as a sort of death lock as he picked me up off of the ground. My flip flop fell free to the gravel as I wrapped my legs around him securely and proclaimed, "Don't you ever leave me like that again!" "I won't, I couldn't. Never ever," he replied. We remained right there in that spot for uncounted minutes with the nighttime silence engulging us. David kissed me lightly on the cheek before setting me back to my own shaky feet. It was 11 and something o'clock on a week night and most others were probably tucking into bed. That was the last place on this earth I wanted to be.

 

I wanted to be nowhere but right there with him, and so I remained. After he had set me down, I stayed as near to him as possible, not willing to let him leave me again just yet. We dusted off the bumper of his car and sat there, arms around each other, talking of everything: of how we had missed each other, of his trip, and back to how we had missed each other. He said that it was beautiful there; that he had wished I was there with him. And so, we made promises to go there together as soon as possible. In reality, he could have talked about anything and I would not have cared so long as he remained right there beside me.

 

The night was growing long, and though time was no object to me, conversation slowed and yawns began to rise into the air. With sleepy eyes and a still racing heart, I grudgingly said my goodbyes. We exchanged a lingering hug and climbed into our cars once again bracing ourselves for those infamous, "I miss you" feelings. I drove away first, watching his headlights follow behind me until we came to the stop sign which would part our ways for now. As he went his way and I mine, I knew there was a developing feeling inside of me that was new.

 

There is one feeling out there that is displayed by different people, at different times, in different ways. The feeling is love and I cannot deny the sensation that it had on me the first time I realized that I was in it. It is a number of cliches, and it is something indescribable all in one. David Shultz brought to life those feelings for me. I was swept off my feet quite literally that night.