Sarah (501 hits)
Category: RomanceRating: 1.2 on 8 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by Adhesive (View user info) at 2004-11-06 14:14:13 EST
How do you explain falling in love? Do you recount the endless hours of talking and flirtation—those occasions of "This tastes like cough syrup" and "Do you believe in God?" Do you describe the songs and movies that seemed to sum up so perfectly the feelings that you felt then—the phrases "Scars are souvenirs you never lose" and "Wait for the ding"? Do you talk about the strange cosmic mysticism that seemed to surround your love—fortune cookies that read, "He is the light of your existence" and the prayer-answering phone calls? Or, conversely, do you speak of the day when it all came to an end—when reality crashed into your childish play-world? Or, do you tell about the decision that you had to one day make, the one between growing up and living in the past? Overall, the experience and the choice that I had to make changed me for the better. If I had to live it all over again, parish the thought, I would still do the same thing today as I did then.
It was the middle of the winter when it happened. The frost had gripped the trees like a dying man holds on to his last moments of life. I had been in love with Sarah for quite some time. Besides me being in fifth grade with her and attending a Halloween party of hers during freshman year, I really met Sarah during a study hall where she boldly walked up to me and sparked up a conversation with me. One of the first things she said was, "I'm dying, Bill. Please kill me." She was the strange kind of person that everyone admires for her boldness, yet few can really appreciate her uniqueness. Everything about Sarah was captivating: her black humor, her bleach-blond hair, her cutting sarcasm, her soft eyes, and her uncanny ability to remain in utter control of any situation. Thus, it was no surprise to me that many other guys had crushes on Sarah. I learned to ignore it, however, and spent as much time perusing the girl as possible.
Sarah and I became closer over the months. We began going to the mall or the movies together, going over each other's houses, going to the beach with our friends, spending much time on the phone together, and so on. Everything seemed to be working out fine between us. I began thinking about Sarah all the time. I began writing poetry to her—though I never had the nerve to actually give any of it to her. I began recording songs onto CDs that reminded me of her. In essence, she became the thing that I was living for. In essence, I was in love.
As Sarah and I grew closer, our groups of friends also began meeting often. It was not to long before Sarah met my best-friend Chris. Chris and I had been friends since seventh grade. We were always close and we always got into the best kinds of trouble together. I remember how we used to disrupt classes together in our heyday, the way that we made our teachers look like idiots. Throughout our adolescence, we always attended all the big parties together. We were a real duo, I should say. We were best friends in the truest way.
I suppose you already know what came next. It's a simple enough formula, and I understand that it happens to probably every man at least once in his lifetime. As sure as one and one make two, Chris began flirting with Sarah all the time. Eventually, they began exchanging books and telephone numbers. And when the wintry day came, I went to Chris' house only to have him tell me that Sarah and him were dating, I was utterly crushed. I quickly went back home, saying I was sick.
Of all the things in my life that have pained me—burning my hand on a stove, nearly cracking my head open onto concrete, ripping my mouth open on the edge of a table—nothing compared to the hurt that I felt that winter. My best friend had taken my first love away. I understood that it is a quite familiar story, a cliché that keeps being told by the skipping record of time, but that fact did not make the pain any less crippling. It was as if my entire world had ended. It was as if all the goodness in the universe had withered away during the passing of the seasons and I was trapped in purgatory.
With this pain eating away inside of me, I knew what I was going to do. I was going to go to Sarah's house, tell her off, and then go to Chris' and do the same. I was going to make my stand and give a big "F—k you!" to both of them. I was going to tell them both that I never wanted to see either one of them again and that I hated them more than anything on the planet.
I drove to Sarah's house driving like a man with a death wish. When I arrived at her house, I took a deep breath and pounded on her front door. She opened the door, standing before me with her sexy tight jeans and a surprised look on her face.
"Oh, hey, Bill," she said. "Come on in."
I walked through her front door without saying a word. I was preparing every word of what I was about to say. Do you have any idea how much I cared about you? You guys hurt me really bad and I never want to speak to you again!
"What's up?" she asked, pouring a few Cokes for us.
"I hear that you're going out with Chris," I said in a low moan, like one of the zombies in Night of the Living Dead.
She smiled, dissipating the foam in our Cokes by swirling her index finger inside the glass and then licking all the soda off of her digit. She handed me my glass and asked me, "So, what do you think?"
I don't think that I can adequately describe the feeling that I had just then. There I was, standing in her house, about to tell her off, and she asked me what I thought. She was asking me how I felt about the fact that she was going out with my best friend. She was asking me how I felt about her not being "my girl" anymore. But she was asking me how I felt. She was asking me what it meant to me. She wanted to know—I could see it in her eyes like one sees the sunlight through morning mist—what I thought about the whole ordeal. She cared about what I thought.
"It's great," I managed to smile, my eyes probably red with turmoil. "I'm happy for you."
"Oh!" she exclaimed, running off to her bedroom. She came back with something shiny in her hands.
"I found something at the store that I wanted to get you," she said.
She handed me a watch that had a picture of the earth in the background.
"It's solar powered and kinetic powered," she said. "As long as you're outside and active, you'll have all the time in the world. Ha ha."
I looked down staring at the watch, thinking about why Sarah would possibly give me something like this. Not to talk her down, but she was never really the gift-giving type of person. Yet, for some reason, she felt the need to buy this watch for me, which I'm sure was not cheap. As I looked at the watch, I realized that Sarah must have really considered me an important friend of hers to go out and get me a gift. She must have appreciated all the time that we had spent together at least to some extent. And as I stood there, looking at the watch, I realized that I was holding onto forever; I was holding onto a gift that could, hypothetically, keep on working until Judgment Day. And I realized then that some things in life, family and friendships, are bigger than puppy love.
I lifted my head up and gave Sarah a hug. I'm sure she thought it odd then and probably laughed at me later about it, but I hugged her harder than I ever have before. She was truly a friend of mine and so was Chris. I wasn't going to let myself come between the happiness of my two best friends. I was going to let it be.
In the end, Sarah and Chris seemed to find true love in each other. They are currently coming up on the one-year mark of their relationship. Even though I very vividly remember the days of staring into Sarah's eyes like she was all that mattered in the universe, and even though I sometimes cringe when I see the two of them kiss each other, I hope that Chris and Sarah are together always. Theirs is an honest love, one that deserves to last throughout their lifetimes. I'll always be proud of myself for being an adult in that situation. If I had it to do over again, I would have done the same thing, because I realize that if I had told off Sarah when I had wanted to, then I never would have known how much she cared. And in this world, people who care are hard to come by.
User Reviews
Submitted by EchoBoxing (user info) at 2004-11-08 12:39:12 EST (#)
Ranking: -2
sniff sniff
Submitted by Istaros (user info) at 2004-11-06 18:28:31 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
people like you really, REALLY piss me off
because it reminds me of myself
fuck
"I understood that it is a quite familiar story, a cliché that keeps being told by the skipping record of time"
that was pretty good
Submitted by Negative_Two_Mang (user info) at 2004-11-06 15:23:15 EST (#)
Ranking: -2
YOU'RE ALL A BUNCH OF FUCKING NIGGERS!
*shits on floor*
Submitted by Kleant (user info) at 2004-11-06 15:22:34 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
great stuff, haha oddly enough I went through close to the same thing this summer(a tad furthur off from the cliche :p) but I guess there's no big surprise there. You're absolutely right, there's so much more than lust, it'll pass and come back again. Love is much more important and much deeper than ownership or exclusiveness (which is what many lean towards in relationships) - genuine care is definitely the greatest gift.
Submitted by Yams (user info) at 2004-11-06 14:59:30 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No, this isn't Chicken Soup material. They don't write about love in there, too touchy I guess. But I know a guy in your situation. Unfortunately, I am his Chris. Life sucks, hm?
Submitted by Negative_Two_Mang (user info) at 2004-11-06 14:51:30 EST (#)
Ranking: -2
YOU'RE ALL A BUNCH OF FUCKING NIGGERS!
*shits on floor*
Submitted by Stin (user info) at 2004-11-06 14:33:09 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Well done you for realising that.
Submitted by MouRNIngLoRY (user info) at 2004-11-06 14:32:22 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
that was a very nice story. kinda chicken-soupy, but it was still really good.
well, you could always submit it to the chicken soup people and make some royalities off it...