The Sacred Memoirs of A Young Adult: I Will Always Love You

City Lights

I always wondered why I had a fascination with city lights. I always thought they reminded me of my childhood. To some extent they did. However, something in my soul made me realise that my fascination with city lights was much deeper than that. Much more familiar and much closer to home. I recently discovered that it is because they remind me of the night that I realised that I'd lied to myself. This is the night shit got deep.

There were neon lights too. A blinding brightness if you looked at them for too long. However, for me, they were not nearly as bright as the street lights that lit up the city, especially coming from the dimly, neon lit club.

Before that I had convinced myself that I wanted nothing to do with you. That there was nothing left to like about you. I had convinced myself that it was just a small crush. Nothing serious.

But earlier on, before the sun went down, when I saw you with her something inside me stirred. I wasn't angry with you or her. I wasn't jealous either. After all, I couldn't blame you. She was beautiful. But, in that moment when I saw you with her for the first time that day, I had wished it was me on your arm instead. I wished that the orange rays of the dipping sun would compliment the two of us the way it complimented the two of you.

I consciously knew that the two of you are friends, still I subconsciously wished I was at least that type of friend to you too. But for the next few hours I didn't focus on that. I tried to have a good time and I actually did. And when we were in the same room, it was hard not to recognise you. Though my eyesight is bad, I could spot you from a mile away, even though all the boys in the room looked similar to you.

When I was on the dance floor, you came to me. I will never forget the song we danced to, though it wasn't just you and I. It felt like it though. You knew every word to the song and I was surprised, but impressed. I felt closer to you than I ever felt before. It was a good feeling.

Then we went to the place with the neon lights. I had changed into a tight fit, black dress that everyone said I looked good in. Because of that, I hoped you'd notice too. And I think you did. And more so when I was stopped by your friend.

Shame. He was a nice guy. He had intentions of loving me the way I want to be loved. At least that's the impression he had given me.

I really didn't want to make it look like I was interested in him, considering the fact that you were right there when he made a move on me. I truly am deeply sorry for that. But my friends pushed me into a conversation with him. So I figured, why not? I was bored anyway (yet I had gone to the party just for you). Perhaps that wasn't the only reason why I gave your friend a chance (not that he stood a chance). To be honest, it kind of angered me that you made it look like you didn't care, which you most probably didn't. So I pulled him to the side and spoke to him. I looked him in the eyes intently as I spoke to him. But when I looked around to see if you were still watching, you were gone.

Towards the end of the night, where the city lights shone, I stood outside with him until he had to leave. And before he did, he kissed me. I turned around coincidentally, only to find that you had seen us. A small smug smile tugged at the corners of my mouth, for I was happy that you had seen that another guy was giving me attention.

But my smug smile didn't last for very long. Guilt sank in as quickly as my short-lived happiness had come and gone.

I felt like I owed you an explanation. Like I had somehow cheated on you. But, I pushed that feeling down. I had to try and enjoy myself. After all, it was the night we'd all been waiting for. The special night to remember. Little did I know that I'd remember you instead.

I don't know if you enjoyed that night, but I didn't really. I felt out of place there. I so badly wanted to go home and cuddle up in a nice, warm blanket. But the short moments I spent with you are moments I will never forget. I felt like I was home. And I felt accepted by you... except when you said those words and wouldn't even look me in the eye.

"Yes I did. And it was nice, as usual."

That extra information.

"And it was nice, as usual."

That emphasis.

"As usual."

I smiled at you, because at that time, I didn't know that those words would affect me so much that I remember them to this day. And in my stupidity, trying to find an excuse to talk to you, I asked, "Oh really? So do you kiss her often?"

The answer was obviously yes.
But you wouldn't even look me in the eye to say it.

At that time, I wasn't bothered, though. It is only now that I look back and reflect on the deep pit that I've dug for myself that I don't really enjoy hearing those words over and over again in my head. But at that moment, I was happy. You'd given me more attention in one night that I had ever received from you, though you refused to look me in the eye half the time.

The night those city lights shone on your handsome face was the night I had begun to fall in deep. Slowly but surely.

A few weeks after this fateful night, some street lights were put up in my neighbourhood. Every night, when I look out the window or when I switch off my lights, I can see them. They light my room up from the window and door of my balcony and sometimes through the curtains too.

Every night in the first couple of days, I used to feel an unknown happiness. A homeliness and comfort that made me want to hit the streets, go out and have a time upon the town ... or city rather. This, for me, is very unusual and I tried hard for so long to understand why I wanted to leave my comfort zone and explore the street world. That is, until I heard you were out on the town with another girl on your arm. I instantly imagined you, out with your girl, while those city lights enhanced your features.

I guess what I am trying to say is: the city lights not only remind me of you, but they remind me of the day I truly fell in love with you.

And they always leave a sense of happiness and a sort of melancholy within me. And that melancholy grows and grows each night I switch my lights off. Soon, it'll overpower my happiness. Leaving me to question why I'm alive at all.