Sex. Love and lust. Love and loss. Relationships are created, broken, mended, destroyed. Burned. In the end, everything is lost to the crematory.
Love is not all about sex. People can love without wanting to be encased in another person. I love my mother and my father. I rarely want to be around them, but I still love them. I love my grandmother. I love the way her house always smelled of freshly baked cookies or how her eyes were soft and kind and old.
I love the way the flowers grow on her grave. She loved flowers. Her favorite were daffodils. Yellow. She loved that the yellow pedals were always the first thing to appear after the barren and cold winter. She loved that they were the first to thaw the frozen ground. The first sign of life after a dead winter. Proof that there was something out there all along. Proof that life is unstoppable.
I have never loved before. Not in the way where your heart starts pounding and your face flushes. Not in the way where you cannot contain your smile. Or in the way where all you yearn for is to see their face again.
I have come to realize how much I want that. I want the heart pounding and the face flushing. I want to have a genuine smile for a change. Not one I slap on to make my mother happy. I want to have someone to look forward to seeing. Someone who looks forward to seeing me.
Someone like Clarissa. If only she knew. But how could she? How will she ever? It would take an extreme force to push both of our lives together. It would take a welder to melt our paths of life into one. It would take an impressive map reader to walk on both of our Roads of Life.
It's impossible for us to meet. To just say hi...
Well, not impossible.
Thomas Hickory
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The Chronicles of Thomas Hickory
Teen FictionThomas Hickory is an average high school student dealing with lack of sleep, hard classes, crushes, and the hardships of Driver's Ed. Join him as he journalizes his life for the world to see.
