I grabbed your hand, pulling you to the stairs. We raced up the steps and I pushed open the door with other hand. Light flooded into my eyes as we burst through. I pulled you close, and hugged you hard. A laugh escaped from your lips and I smiled. I grabbed both of your hands and swung you around. You giggled, and as we danced around in a circle. I could hear the music and so could you. This was love.
It was 3am in the morning and I was loaded with coffee. Here I was, thinking about you. Your image must have been stuck on my mind by glue because I was getting nowhere ahead than that. I was sitting in the corner of a room, smiling like an idiot, thinking about you. I was sure if I had been asleep, I’d dream about you because that’s what has been happening ever since I met you. I was a sucker, I must admit because I kept going over our times together in my head even though I already did this kind of stuff all day. It must have been the coffee; I’m pretty sure because I got frustrated. How could someone be so damn perfect? Enough to make me choke on my own words and make my heart chase clouds, or to make a total fool of myself? It was 3am and I was thinking about someone feverishly, who would never think the same for me. This was stupid. This was love.
‘. . . .Guys aren’t even supposed to think about forever and here, I had already imagined the color of your wedding dress and named three of our kids. Now I’m pretty sure there would be two little angels who would have your hair and smile, while a little boy with twinkling eyes like yours who grow up to protect his sisters. These kids would be smart and good looking, both qualities coming from you. And you, you would be an even more wonderful mother, all caring and compassionate. And we, we could grow old together and then tell our even more gorgeous grandkids how we met. We would live a happy life and I would tell you that I would hope to die when you did as l would not be able to bear a moment without you. And you would smile then, all beautiful even when you’re 82.’I looked back at what I had written on the paper and let my head hit the table. What the hell was happening to me? I had been sitting here an hour ago to finish an essay on monopolies in the global market and look now where had I reached. This was crazy. This was love.
You had ordered coffee and I had done the same. When the waiter came, all too quick navigating around other tables with our order, I was relieved as it would give me time to think. I could think while sipping the coffee therefore erasing any chance of saying anything foolish and embarrassing myself. I looked back at the waiter who was in the process of placing the tray on our table and tripped on his own feet. Before I knew it my hands had reached out and shoved their way into the path of tray. The tray toppled over on my hands, far away from you where it had been previously landing. Worried I looked towards if you were okay, paying no heed to myself. Realizing that you were alright, I suddenly became aware of my burning hands. I wrung them, as the pain intensified, and looked up to ask the waiter where the sink was. In that split moment hands reached out to mine, cradling them to an icepack. You were holding them and looking worried. And it may not have been the best moment in my life but I really couldn’t help smiling. Smiling like an idiot, because you were holding my hands. This was ridiculous. This was love.
I had been sitting against a pillar, on the front steps of the building. The weather was extremely pleasant and a gentle breeze was blowing. According to the weatherman rainfall was expected at night, and as a precaution I had brought an umbrella with me in the afternoon. I was right as soon in an hour or two it had started rain to heavily. Girls out in the ground shrieked and rushed for cover inside the building racing up the steps while the boys, splashed around getting mud over their jeans. I could hear the girls complaining about how the rain ruined their hair and makeup and I laughed inside. Soon their conversation went to another point as a girl pointed out something in the ground. Following the direction, I looked to see my batch mates in a fight with the seniors. Seriously, these people take up every chance to fight but then again, they all thought that this was the best way to impress the ladies. I rolled my eyes and watched as most of the guys that were earlier inside had gone out to join the fight. It was simply foolish. I sat there watching the fight progress and was really surprised when it broke up. Apparently it seemed the principal of our school had heard about the fight and sent over Hunter Williams.
Hunter Williams the most popular guy of the school. He had brains, haunting good looks, and was a perfect gentleman. He was also the strongest in our university, a sportsman with international awards. Did I tell you that this man was also freaking rich and every girl wanted him? He was perfect in every way and respected by everyone, he was better at controlling us all than the principal. It might sound hard to believe but it’s true. There was only thing that he was bad at was art, and believe me that this man could not even draw to save his life. Well that’s supposed to be a secret which only I know. You might be wondering how exactly I would be included in knowing this. Well Hunt was my best friend in college. It wouldn’t be hard to believe if you saw him back then. He was just as ordinary as me. But that was until he disappeared off the map of the earth in the last year of college with a note saying he had family problems. Pathetic excuse, right? I found out he had moved away and I wasn’t able to trace him. A lot of problems came that year for me and I soon forgot about it. Imagine my surprise when I saw him here all different, a year ahead of me sounds extremely fishy doesn’t it? I was too angry at him. I confronted him and the only response I got was he never knew me. That was when I punched him in the gut and got my first suspension in college. How could he expect me to believe that, when he was engaged to you? Word spread about the fight and life only got worse.
Thanks to his reputation I was immediately black listed by every other student who all had started to believe that I needed to be taught a lesson. My first year in the university was filled with fights and social boycotts but I didn’t back down one bit. I fought my fights and didn’t take any attitude from anyone. This led to me also being expelled by the principal who didn’t really believe me when I told him the whole story and said the only thing that was keeping me here were all my art scholarships. Back then it had taken a lot of control to not point out the fact that Hunter didn’t have any and go through my story again. I didn’t quite like the principal after the incident and still don’t. I then had started collecting evidence by going through public records but I really couldn’t find any connection. Except a witness who was on his side.
