“The greatest thing you’ll ever learn
is just to love, and be loved in return.”
-Moulin Rouge
A first kiss. Often such a momentous memory in our lives. Young people on the television and in movies dream for their first kiss, and, when they find it, they experience a bliss that is enlightening. And yet, for me, one given so easily to romantic tendencies, one who believes that love is the most important thing on earth, and one who would sometimes rather a hug than a kiss because it can mean so much more; for one who longs so desperately, who aches for the sweet innocent bliss of true love that may give me my wings that I may fly, … it was not so.
she, a girl I hardly knew, and hardly wish to remember. i, so awkward and shy, just happy that she wanted to spend time with me. it wasn’t exactly a pleasant experience either. we were at a museum, in the special exhibit, holding hands, because i didn’t know any better and wanted something, anything, just to feel valued. nothing romantic, just pictures of faces, which was, in fact, a bit discomforting. she turned to me, and kissed me, and at first, i didn’t know what to do. after a moment, i tried to kiss back, but felt awkward, and didn’t know how. but i knew that it made me feel… something. Not love, no. Nowhere near love. almost the opposite. i don’t know if i could say lust, but it was related. it was the animal instinct of attraction, plain, simple, and ugly. Ugly. nice word for a first kiss, huh? but i’ll go on. we ended up “dating,” if you could call it dating, for short of two months. two months of my life i will never get back, and can never give to another. she didn’t want my love, she didn’t want my friendship, she just wanted me, my body. she said it so often, and i hated it. Hated it. but i withstood it, because i was afraid that, that once, that once i left her, no other would ever acknowledge me. i wanted the status of a couple, simply to not be alone. being alone was my fear, and still is. i am alone and every day it nags at me, and i cant get it out, like a splinter in the edge of my heart, that sometimes, sometimes… digs deeper. it makes me question my worth, it makes me question the good times, i question my friends. when it digs, if you asked me if i had them, i could name one or two, but i would say that they weren’t close. i would say that i don’t have any friends, not that i could pour myself out to, not that i could talk to about this, no one with whom i could share my pain. it makes me question who i am, and why i should be here, be alive, be… blessed. because i am blessed. but i move back to my kiss, and the following weeks of attraction, then lust, then boundaries. i will be a virgin when i get married. its not a statement of self doubt, as someone once took it, but a statement of faith. I committed my life and my self wholly to the Lord my God, my savior and friend. she, however, wanted me. all of me. i would tell her, time and time again, that she couldn’t push my boundaries, because she was hurting me. making me compromise the beliefs that make up who I am, and who i want to be. but she didn’t listen, until i realized that i could be happy. another, came into my life, and changed me. i realized that she was not the last or only, and i thank God for both that realization, and the one who changed my life. the one who changed me was… perfect. i know the one who changed me was not perfect, and i wasn’t always happy during our time of two months, two weeks, and two days. even still, the one who changed me was, and still is, to me, the most beautiful creation i have ever seen, and She was my angel. but before all that, when She just showed simple interest in me, i decided that i was through with the first. she fought it, with claws that dripped down her face, and ripped up my heart. i couldn’t bear to see her cry, and so i couldn’t end it. one weekend, though, when i spent time with the one who changed my life, i remembered what it felt like to be happy. and i knew, that i was not happy where i was. and so i ended it. the first cried and begged, but i needed it. Needed to be free of the weight and pain bearing down on me, and so i left her. and found, my angel. the one who was too good for me, and so when She wanted to go, i protested at first, asked Her to stay with me as i left for college, to try, but it didn’t make sense. so i let Her go, hoping that maybe, someday, She would come back to me, but knowing that, while She would always be my friend, She was meant for bigger and better things than a simple artist like myself. an artist who cannot even express the emotion that wells up inside of me in any way. a musician that cannot find that one elusive chord, or note that makes a song my song. and so i write this, hoping that i can get this splinter in my heart out just long enough, that i can live beyond it for just a moment. for just long enough that i could find my song, and sing it loud, for someone, just one other soul, to know that i am here. that i live, that i create, and that i love. if i have nothing, but have my friends and family, i would consider myself a rich man. for love is wealth that does not get lost. it does not turn with an economy or market. it cannot crash, and become worthless. love is wealth that lasts for an eternity, hanging on our hearts and words, that we might not feel… alone.
