Coffee and Spilled Ink

Chapter 3

I reflected on our kiss for every moment of the rest of the day. Really, I thought about it every moment for the rest of the week. I think I even dreamt about it. Maybe that's how first kisses were for everyone - maybe they consumed everyone's mind all the time; maybe ours wasn't as great as I made it out to be - but I don't know. Our kiss felt different than all the others my friends have told me about, or the ones I heard about in the hallways. It felt more intense. More important.

I also listened to Dookie every single day, even though I wasn't a huge fan of Green Day in general. Suddenly, everything reminded me of you, and I was therefore obsessed - I mean in love - with everything. 

That should have been a sign.

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When I got to my homeroom the day after our first kiss, there were a dozen roses on my desk, and a note that said, "Wait for it..." and my anxiety went through the roof for absolutely no reason at all, considering a dozen roses typically means something great is about to happen, but still, I was an anxious mess.

And then you walked through the door in all your glory. Your hair was just the right amount of messy to be sexy but not gross, and your shirt was clinging to all the right portions of your body. Your cheekbones and jawline looked extra prominent, which I must admit, is still a turn on for me in anyone. You flashed your diamond smile and I swore I was going to faint. I must have always looked so ugly compared to you.

"What's going on?" I asked.

"Well, I wanted to ask you in a much more dramatic way, but I couldn't afford a skywriter, so I guess I'll just ask this way." You pulled a piece of paper from your pocket. From what I could tell, it looked like a poem. I thought you were just going to give it to me, but then you started speaking:

"Completely certain in my total uncertainty -

You are everything.

From the blood that flows through my veins

to the pen in my hand.

You are the lump in my throat -

the cream in my coffee.

You are the chill that gets sent down my spine

every time you speak my name.

What a wonderful sound it is."

You looked up, and my mouth must have fallen open or something because you started laughing. I looked behind you to find my homeroom teacher with her hands over her mouth. I don't think either of us have ever been so speechless. I didn't even know what to do. Or what to say. Nothing I wrote would ever compare. I think you realized I couldn't figure out what to say, so you asked if I would be your girlfriend. I must have managed to say yes because all of a sudden, you were kissing me in front of everyone. My insides were exploding.

That's when I started to fall in love with you. I wish I could say I regretted it, but to this day, I have never felt something so pure in my life. I wish it could have stayed that way.

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When I got home, I told my mother that you were my boyfriend. She congratulated me and then told me I wasn't allowed to have sex with you because she didn't raise a whore. I wasn't sure why she was so hung up on me being a whore, as if that was the worst thing I could have ever been, but I wasn't looking to argue, so I just agreed with her and went to my room.

I tried to write a poem about you, but the words wouldn't come out.

"You're, like, amazing" certainly wasn't Pulitzer worthy, and I would not settle for anything less. Especially not after what you wrote. Everything I did for you had to be perfect because you were perfect and I was not worthy of you. I felt like everyone, including you, knew that. I still couldn't figure out why you chose me, of all people. I wasn't the most intelligent, or the prettiest, and I certainly didn't have the best body. I didn't think I was very interesting and I knew I was crazy. 

Every second of everyday since the first day of school, I was so afraid of losing you because I was so afraid of not being good enough. I mean, I already thought I wasn't good enough, and I still half-thought you were doing this as a joke. I couldn't lose you. I had to be perfect for you. I had to achieve perfection for you by any means possible. 

I decided to skip dinner.

I had never skipped a meal in my life, and my body was very confused. My stomach kept growling but I told myself that this was the first step to keeping you forever. Perfection was supposed to hurt. Beauty was supposed to hurt. None of this was supposed to be easy. But it would be worth it... right?