Never Lose Its Shine

2:15 PM 5/27/2012

                                                                                                                Introduction

                                                I must write this all down while it is still clear in my memory for the time being. It seems that this story has run through my head countless times over the last few weeks, but up until now it has not hit me with such an impact. This blow I have taken is not necessarily a painful one, full of heartache and regret, but one that raises questions in my mind, ideas that I have not pondered until just a few minutes ago.

                                                                                                                First meeting

                                                It all started in 2004, when I was in the fourth grade. It may seem crazy and very unintelligent that I may have these feelings at such a young age with absolutely no previous exposure to the heart, but I agree that this was a confusing time on the verge of adolescence for anyone at such a young age. Aside from that, we shall begin. During my time in Mrs. Taylor’s class, from time to time I would find this girl from another room for whom I took interest in. She was a sweet young girl, white skin, the bluest eyes you could see from miles away, the most heart melting smile, yet such a mystery to me. I would find myself searching for her everywhere I went when I would walk the crowded grounds of the elementary school, especially during times when I knew she would be in the same facility as I was. During lunch I would look back towards the classrooms where she would come out, hoping that I would catch some sort of glimpse of this mysterious girl. The days I didn’t see her were filled with disappointment, just as a parent exciting their children for a major family event, only to be shot down beforehand. Every day before recess I would wait by the bathrooms, biding my time until I saw her walk by, back into her classroom just coming from 15 minutes of running freely through the grass. With scraped knees and all I would be lucky enough to catch her on some days, for this moment did not come very often. My timing was not the best to where I would see her every day. This entire process went on through the entire school year, until everything changed the next year.

                                September of 2005 was when I was introduced to the girl I had kept my young and curious eyes on. Before this school year there were yearbooks being sold for fifteen dollars. A black and white book was given to those with the money and what they got were blurry photographs of each class, every picture, and every student attending the elementary school. I did not buy one of these but I did manage to get my hands on one from a friend during recess. I opened it and searched almost desperately through the thick pages, looking for the mysterious girl’s class picture. After some digging, I had found it. Scanning every face on the page I finally found her distinct face from the rest. My heart seemed to have jumped out of my chest looking at her face. I became content, like a lions hunger had been satisfied for the time being. Sixth grade had started and I became excited to once again be reunited with all I held close, my friends and colleagues. During recess one fine day, I had finally caught her eye. The usual process had begun. The boy and girl exchange timid and nervous looks, hoping for a connection that would not come without a sudden burst of courage. This went on for weeks before it finally happened. I was walking back towards my classroom in the middle of recess when her and her friend, Patricia, walked by me with giggles and smiles. She laughed nervously and forced out the word "Hi" to me. At the time I was shocked that such a person would even talk to me, but it happened. I was not able to think fast enough to respond with words, so my response was a quick smile at her. After the quick reflex, I had thought about what I had just gone through. Her smile. So nervous, full of discomfort but also a happiness to finally break the ice between two curious children. A satisfaction of finally relieving the hunger that the bird had for so long been searching for.

                                We had planted the seed. After what seemed like a very traumatic turn of events (for the better), stepping out of a bubble of comfort that everyone so content with, we bonded immediately. She had given me a note one morning. It was on red paper, cut into a heart and full of writing and small sayings on it. Five starburst candies had been taped onto the inside of the heart to further surprise its recipient. It was a note from a girl with a newly found crush. I too had felt a sudden change within myself. I would search for any way possible for her to keep her attention on me. Wearing black was a new start for me, because at the time I felt that all the "cool people" wore black all the time. I would work to the greatest extent to spike my hair more than usual, to keep it noticeable. This became somewhat of a daily routine for me.

                                Heather was her name. Along with her blue eyes, white and freckled skin, and innocent being, her long straight hair blew in the wind with grace. Her voice was small and her heart was big. She had passed me an envelope just after morning recess. Upon opening it, I found a picture of her. The same smile and usual pink attire I became so familiar with. On the back was her name and phone number. I seemed to have been jumping with internal excitement after this, for right when I returned home from school, I called her. Some courage building was needed to do this, for I had never actually talked on the phone with a girl before, aside from those in my family. She answered. Her voice seemed unrecognizable through the phone, but I would not doubt it wasn’t her. We talked for what seemed like hours, but were actually only twenty minutes. The conversation was full of nervous comments and loss of words to say. I had no train of thought through the entire call, for I was new to this. I searched for something to talk about for every minute that passed. I started talking about how I needed to change the batteries in my Game Boy Color. Not much is left in my mind what went on the rest of the time. But once I hung up the phone, I felt like a completely different person. I turned to my brother, who was sitting across the room, and said "aahhhh. My life is now complete. “From there our relationship only escalated into higher reaches.

                                We spent more time with each other during school. I would see her before school between the two classes just before the cafeteria. We would see each other during recess and even lunch, although we were never able to sit with one another. We were able to sit together at breakfast, for it was not in any organized fashion to separate anyone.  Through this time, we would still exchange notes on occasions. She would walk with me to my class after recess, and then return to where her class was located. One particular day I was talking to her after recess. I was standing on the ramp and looking down at her while she looked up at me. One of my classmates, Riley Johnson, had made a mimicking remark to Heather just as she was about to make her way back to her classroom. She walked back with the saddest and angered face I had seen from her. The next day she visited me on the same ramp only for a short few minutes, but handed me a note. I looked at the outside of the note, decorated with hearts and had my name written in cursive on the front. There was one heart next to my name that had "I love you" inside of it, and on the back another heart with an arrow pointing in its direction. "You filled it up!" it was on the side of it. Inside there was a small doodle on the top, an angered drawing directed towards Riley. But on the bottom of the page, a small paragraph.

                                Dear Victor,

                                                                There is something I want

                                                                to tell you but I just can't.

                                                                It's just too embarrassing. And

                                                                besides, we're just not ready

                                                                for it. I am though.

                                                                P.s. Call Me

                                After reading the note, I was confused on what she meant. My mind raced with thoughts of us. What if we were together for the many years to come? I did not ponder the thought of leaving her at all, for I had never experienced loss before.