As usual, this is a ROUGH DRAFT...because I'm too lazy to edit, rewrite and actually make anything worth reading...
This is a work of fiction.
All characters and events are a figment of the
author's overactive imagination and should in NO way be interpreted as based on actual events...
...especially events in my life...
...nope...not at all...
Once upon a time, there was an unusual young girl who lived with her head in the clouds. Dreamy and idealistic, she believed in wishes on stars, fairy tales, and, most of all, in the all consuming power of the human heart. That is to say, she loved a boy with every ounce of her being.
The beginning of young love is in and of itself a magical thing. First love, doubly so. Each discovery is like a gift, each touch more thrilling than the last. There were times when she would sit by his side and simply draw hearts and words of love into the palm of his hand with her fingers. Sitting quietly by his side, holding his hand in hers was to know the meaning of joy.
This dreamy and unusual girl had a problem though. You see, she was under a powerful curse that rendered her incapable of expressing to this boy the tremendous amount of love that swelled inside of her. Fear would seize her and steal all the words from her lips whenever she even dared to try. Because of this, she was awkward and shy and forever doing or saying the wrong things, and growing even more frustrated with herself.
The heartbreaking reality of first love is that it rarely ever lasts. When you're young there is an awful tendency to grow apart, to choose different paths and move on, or to make foolish mistakes. For our dreamy girl, it was as Shakespeare said, she 'loved not wisely, but too well'. It was with an pain that all but extinguished the light inside of her that the boy left her life. A darkness descended on her that humid night, bringing with it a hollow existence. Day to day living took on a sharp, unbearable pain, and so she sought refuge in sleep. Any temporary solace she would find in dreams, however, was destroyed by the agony that was waiting for her upon waking. Days would pass without her notice, and she rarely had the desire to eat more than a few bites at a time. So acute was her loss that she withered within, and let her life and plans pass her by.
One day she awoke from her sleep to realize that two months had come and gone with out her notice. A rage welled up inside of her. How could she have let herself react in such a way? How could she have let one person's decision to walk out of her life throw all of her plans into disarray? That day she decided to lock that dreamy, idealistic part of herself away for good. Never would she ever let anyone that close to her heart again.
For a while, she often saw the boy from afar, never daring to even speak to him. Every time she saw him, or thought of him, her heart (and her soul, if truth be told) would clench with an ache she was often surprised didn't bring her to her knees. She would come to learn that this would never go away, she would simply learn to live with it.
Time passed, as it insists on doing, in rushed happy moments, and endless dull ones. The girl decided, after some time, that she would try to let herself love again. There was a slight flicker of a possibility that was extinguished before it was even given a chance, followed by a brutal time with an ogre disguised as a prince. After both, she closed herself off more and more, hiding her frail and ravaged heart further and further from sight.
It was during her time with the ogre that the boy slowly began to be a part of her life again, although, only in small amounts. It was painful, her heart screaming wildly that it was still his, and demanding to be set free from its prison. However, she realized that it was less painful to have him in her life in little ways than not at all. So, she tightened the locks around her heart, in an attempt to keep it from bursting free, and the boy and girl set out on a road towards becoming friends.
Years passed and somewhere along the way the girl became a woman, and the boy a man. To her though, he would always be the boy she gave her heart to. She would dream of him often, and the simplest of things, such as naps on a humid Sunday afternoon, would bring back memories that would squeeze her heart with that familiar ache. With every painful remembrance she would take a deep breath, and send out an earnest wish for him to be sublimely happy.
This kind of story doesn't have an ending. Sometimes there are people who come into your life who will write their names on your heart forever. If you're extremely lucky, you will grab on to them with both hands and keep them in your life, one way or another. Despite the pain, despite the moments of sadness, your life will be richer for having them there. And just maybe they will be the spark that encourages you to let that dreamy, idealistic girl run free once more.