Meet Kristal Jane Anderson.
The girl that feels as though she was stripped from all the joys of life on one ungodly night. A night that changed her whole perspective on love forever, a night in which she stopped believing in it's existence, a night...
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Kristal Anderson
His car came into view and I made no effort to hide the stupid smile plastered on my face.
It was nearly twelve in the morning and here I was, at my window waiting for a guy I barely knew to get out of his car just so I could see him for some reason.
This whole situation felt silly when I thought about it too much, but God did my heart explode with contentment I hadn't felt in what seemed like ages.
He stepped out of his car, suit jacket in hand, the sleeves of his white dress shirt rolled up to his forearms, his hair disheveled in the most perfect way, the way his black dress pants fitted should be considered illegal. And so should the ungodly thoughts running through my mind at the mere sight of them.
He shut the door to his car, his eyes were already on mine, and mine were on his, and the last thing I wanted to do was break the contact. He lifted his hand up in a wave and I returned the gesture with a smile on my face that could have easily been reaching my ears.
That was all two weeks ago, though it didn't feel like it.
My days just a few weeks back all felt the same; I woke up, stared at the ceiling contemplating life for a few minutes, then I'd stare out my window for the majority of the day enviously looking down at the people whose life wasn't on pause. Though not much of my routine has changed, now I felt like I had something to look forward to every day. Talking to him.
There was something about him that just made me feel. . . comfortable and safe. The two weeks went by in a blink because of him, I could talk to him for hours and it always felt like nothing more than just a few minutes had passed.
Just a few nights prior, we had talked during his car ride back home and while he was making his dinner. He was in his kitchen chopping up veggies for a Caesar salad he had told me he was making and I was in bed on my laptop scrolling through my socials.
A comfortable silence fell among us, we spoke whenever we had something to say, we let out every random thought.
"No way," I said more to myself, I hadn't expected him to be listening after we had both been doing our own thing enveloped by a comfortable silence for so long.
"What?"
A squeal left my lips as my eyes scanned the words on my screen, excitement cursing through my veins like a venom so deep in my bloodstream, "The Berlin Symphony orchestra is coming to town,"
"No fucking way, when?" In one of our conversations about nothing and everything, we discovered our mutual love for classical music. It was a discovery that came with hours of us discussing our favorite composers, orchestras which to some may seem boring but that conversation made my little nerdy heart happy.
"Classical music was always one of the very few things that my father and I had in common," He had told me that day, he let out a small chuckle, "I remember. . ." He paused for a moment or two, "I remember when I was little I used to sit outside his office whenever he worked from home and I would just listen to the classical music he played in there. I guess that was my way of feeling closer to him,"
