The Love Of A Lifetime

When I Knew

  It was a bright sunny day in spring when I knew that I loved him. We were fifteen years old and had been best friends since we were in kindergarten playing snap and eating lunch together. We had been having a picnic in his backyard; he was grounded and wasn’t allowed to go anywhere else. We’d spread out an orange and yellow checked blanket on the lawn, under the shade of a huge maple tree by the wooden fence in the backyard. We had sandwiches and lemonade and a packet of sour cream and onion chips.  

  We were having a food fight; there were chips and bits of sandwich everywhere! I had just smashed my Devon and tomato sauce sandwich into his hair and he got the most adorably shocked look on his face, like he couldn’t believe I’d actually done it. That was the moment I knew, one hundred percent without a doubt, that I loved this crazy boy, and that I always would.

 “I love you,” I confessed, still laughing at his expression.

  His expression lost the adorably shocked look and turned seriously in an instant.  I became worried when I saw the change in his face, what if I had scared him off by saying it too soon. Was it too soon? We had only been dating a few months, but it felt like we’d been together since we were five years old. However I quickly realised that my worry was unnecessary when he replied.

  “Well that’s good, because I kind of love you too,” he told me with a goofy smile.

 My heart filled with joy as his reply reached my ears and I leaned in to seal our words with a passionate kiss.

  I wondered that if we had known what was to come, if we would have done anything differently. Would we have left? Runaway together? Or would we have done exactly as we did, stay here and fight like hell to stay together? Would we still have lost each other if we had known? Would we have been able to change anything? Or would things have happened the same way?

  These are questions I ask myself everyday; questions that I never can find any answers to.

  Now, as I look down at our beautiful baby boy, the baby boy Liam never got to meet, I wondered if he was watching over us, making sure we were okay.  At the very least, it was nice thought.

  I put baby Joshua, named after his daddy whose middle name was the same, into his crib for the night before turning out the lights and heading to bed, the bed I had shared with Liam. I missed him so much and there were still days that I would stay in the room, our room, with baby Joshua, only leaving it for the essentials, unable to face the world without him. But at least I would always have a little bit of Liam in my locket and in our beautiful baby boy.