iCiNG Stories: Love
[ 16 February 2009 ]
The other day I was looking out a window, thinking about the people that read this site, & how interesting they (you!) all are. Every time I post something, you reveal a little bit more of yourselves, & it’s amazing to me. Imagine the collective knowledge, creativity & magic if we put all our brains in a database!
I want to give you more of an opportunity to participate in iCiNG. So I had this idea that we could do regular story-telling sessions, where we all write about one topic.
What you tell us doesn’t even have to be true, it can be pure imagination if you’d prefer, but honestly I think real life is stranger & more wonderful than fiction…
The first topic is love, romance, infatuation, deliciousness. What do you remember?
For me, it’s Virgo poet boys who write about you & send you their work to critique. It’s people who write your initials + theirs inside a heart on a picnic table. It’s being presented with a dozen cupcakes when I arrived in New York, sneaking through casinos with my Virgo wife, & men who buy you a copy of their favourite book. It’s waltzing with my almost-lover at 4am to Frank Sinatra. It’s boys who sing to you in the botanical gardens & boyfriends who throw you surprise birthday parties in extravagant hotel rooms. It’s bat signals & entire albums written about you & unexpected phonecalls. It’s signs from the universe just when I stopped thinking about him. It’s the way the air between us is electric. It’s those moments of sweet wonder when everything falls into place. It’s stacks & stacks of letters, notebooks full of heartbreak which served as a kind of prayer, & holding hands in foreign countries.
Tell us about your sweetest moments!
Love letters & feather headdresses,
Tags: inspiration,
life,
question Add Gala on Twitter!
For me, it’s:
Kissing at the airport as you say goodbye, whispering to the other one as you hold them that you will see them soon enough. Eating Ethiopian food with your hands, intertwining the fingers underneath the table; to sneak a kiss as you walk along the shoreline on a winter’s day. Tracing the tattoo of the other one, and getting it done to you. Sitting on a rock by the Atlantic ocean and realizing your feelings. Infatuation unreturned in New York City, but still I loved, still I ached for him, still I wonder about him. Walking, and taking his hand because he is too shy to do it, and then the rain starts dripping and he doesn’t notice until you point it out because he’s so head-over-heels for you. Kissing her in the snow on a silent street, kissing her the first thing you did when you woke up; kissing her neck while she is making the dishes. Long-distance love and how it aches, and then rewards you.
Ooh, what a sweet idea! I’ll see if I can think of a lovely story to share…
hmm, boys who are a laugh to hang out with,that do stupid dances with you,who give you big toothy smiles,that rescue you when there’s no one else around,that are ‘chavs’,that make you laugh ‘til you die (pssh naw, the best chav i’ve ever met)that you pretend to dislike but really you love.
and on the subject of friends,the ones that call you bumhead,that are whispering down the phone,that cant spell for shit,that just make you laugh SO HARD, friends that write songs with phallic undertones (oh sarah…),friends that are good for hugs.
It’s friends that will go to Mamma Mia with you and sing along to all the songs really obnoxiously, and think its hilarious when the cop comes in with the flashlight and tells you to be quiet
I gave up on love at an early age. I always thought it was a myth. Some overly hyped chemical reaction that caused a lot of hurt feelings and mistakes. I looked for compatible, safe, and sane and gave up on the spark. I found My perfect vanilla character to fill the void and We stayed together for a few years before it unraveled. Then I unraveled.
The love of My life (Who happens to be a Virgo) literally found a drunken crazy girl crashed up on a bike on the side of the road. There was definitely a spark. I was a mess, and I must have been damned entertaining because He stuck it out and here We are, and there is the spark, and I really don’t think it’s going away. I think it lit the path to something I didn’t know existed.
Holding hands, sitting on cars while looking at the stars, getting tangled up in blankets, telling dirty jokes until everyone blushes, getting surprised, surprising, gentle kisses, cutting out hearts to mail one at a time to a lover, taking goofy photos together, making out over a picnic in the warm sunlight, taking hikes and collapsing at the top of a mountain totally sweaty yet still madly in love, traveling to Paris and spooning, traveling to Rome and laughing at ridiculous adventures, and just being there.
a boy who tries to play it cool, but sometimes slips up and accidentally shows his softer side and how much he really does love you.
For me:
Making Thai food together and stopping to slow dance in the middle of the kitchen. Riding bikes home in the middle of a thunder storm after a baseball game and screaming “I love you!” for the first time. Writing secret love letters two years after you’ve broken up. 5 hour drives together that don’t seem like they’re long enough. Waking up at 2 am to talk about your favorite kinds of cereal. Making out in the middle of a car wash. Drawing hearts in sidewalk chalk the half a mile between your houses. Intentionally missing your flight to stay longer. Falling asleep on a couch together in a room full of people. Tea in bed. Sleeping butt to butt. Chemistry that refuses to die after 6 years. Birthday postcards. Quoting Ace Ventura in every conversation. Still holding each other after endless bullshit.
An older, alluring, charming, fascinating, intelligent, soul tickling man you can never, ever have…
But you had.
Hugging each other for no reason at all. Playing Guitar Hero on cooperative, singing to Lips and jumping around. Have fun eating at the hot dog stand outside school. Walking in the sunshine while holding hands, having matching Little Red Cars. Eating from the same ice cream pint. Being the only two in the universe.
You’re 14 and lonely and sad and alone in a very very strange part of the world. You’ve never been this far away from home, alone. No one really understands you.
why are you here?
Then he shows up in your life unexpectedly and magically, out of the blue.
That’s why you are here.
The first time you talk to him, you feel it.
The first time you see him, you know it.
He’s the one.
The one, what, exactly?
You don’t know, you didn’t really believe in love until that moment.
But you knew that whatever he was he was the only one.
Fast forward 8 years and innumerable obstacles.
That strange part of the world is the fairy forest in which you live now. You are so cocooned in love now though, that the thought of loneliness and sadness feels foreign to you.
You roll around and he’s there,still the same feeling of oneness when you look at him.
You still don’t know what it’s about. But you still know that it is right.
it’s dancing with him in the middle of a nightclub, on your eighteenth birthday, you in the purple dress that shimmers when you move and him in the jeans you used to steal. it’s having him hold you to him and closing your eyes, because you know if you open them you’ll see your boyfriend watching you both. it’s knowing that if he wasn’t moving to melbourne tomorrow, you’d still be together because he only broke up with you to spare you the heartache of having to say goodbye again. it’s knowing that for that five minute dance, you were his whole world.
For me its waking up to cute messages on your phone that came in at three AM. Kissing in the subway as you both wait for your respective trains. It’s walking down the street when suddenly snow starts filtering down through the buildings — you both look up and smile. It’s the poems that you inspire one another to write — no matter how corny.
It’s spending Valentines day together when neither of you have spent a decent Valentines day together with people before. It’s singing along to music that you both know.
It’s being completely honest with one another — neither of you ashamed to do so.
For me… Its sunny days and the smell of sunscreen. Margaritas and big red flowers resting on your ear as the wind blows your hair in different directions. The butterflies that still attack your stomach even though its already been more than two years. The Boy that gives you honest opinions about your art because he cares, and he laughs at your jokes, even when they’re dumb, because he knows it makes you happy. When he holds your hand the electrical current is so strong it makes your cheeks red; it causes waves big enough to surf on. He gives you sweet summer kisses until your lips swell, and at night he keeps you warm with hugs. He doesn’t mind just sleeping.
its the full feeling that lasts every time you think about him, even after the relationship. Dancing with the girls with the music blasting. Boats full of friends and tans that last for months. Puerto Rican sunsets and drives on the beach. Every time you meet someone new, you can’t help but compare them. Its the boy who finally makes you forget. He gives you goose-bumps and happy days. its knowing you’re heart can hurt for two very different people, in two very different types of ways.
For me, it’s the little things that make you fall in love with someone over and over again, like how perfectly round their bellies are, the funny and unnecessary tattoos they have on the arches of their feet, how deep their laugh is after they call you “darlin’,” the corners of their mouths when they smile, their imperfect teeth, and how they can turn you over with one arm and make you feel like nothing.
I’m sort of a writer and once I was critiqued on a set of poems a long time ago. I used the word “love” too much and was told that it was cliche and made the poem seem insincere. So now I write poems that are all love but never ever mention it.
Also, every guy I’ve loved has reminded me of a certain breed of dog. My favorite one thus far was a doberman, but I’m still waiting on my great pyrenees.
overseas phone calls and listening to frank sinatra (:
Romantic Love is something I don’t know much about.
I know love for family and love for friends. The love I have for my sister and my bestfriends is something unending and wholehearted.
Love for that someone special however remains elusive. Sometimes I’d think I would have it but have never been 100% sure. But the times I have thought that I might have felt it have been amazing.
I loved my first kiss, although I didn’t love the boy who gave it to me. I loved how good we were together even though it was for a short period of time.
It took a dream for me to realize how I felt about the guy I’d be with for almost 2 years. The time when he showed up somewhere he knew I was going to be with a bunch of Oreos (my favorite cookie at the time) was the first time I think I truely could see myself loving him. The times we’d stay up late talking even though he was so far away I loved him. When he became self destructive and depressed I wanted to run away but I couldn’t because I cared about him too much. I think I must have loved him if I could have been there for him through all his issues. I must have loved him to have put up with all his crap. And while I don’t think I was ever “In Love” with him I certainly cared a lot about him. It was hard to break it off and although I didn’t expect it I found myself crying in front of him, something I didn’t think I’d ever let myself do.
Since then I haven’t felt any kind of romantic love towards anyone else, but that’s ok. I’m only 19 and if all goes well I will have my whole life ahead of me to discover just how it feels to truely be “In Love”.
Every time I shifted position that night, he would snuggle up tighter against my back, kissing my neck and shoulders. I barely slept for all the shifting I did.
Can you blame me for being heartbroken when I never saw him again afterward? But now I know: love is kisses on the shoulders.
Hmmm…my sweetest moments….well for me it would have to include:
—Kisses when my favorite hockey team scores a goal (favorite team is NJ Devils)
—Riding on the subway and making each other laugh.
—Singing through the Port Authority. Song of choice—The Wheels on the Bus.
—Just being able to be silly with my siginificant other.
—Feeling like we are the only two in the world.
—Having Jabberwocky Tea Service at Alices Tea Cup, even though he thinks it can be kind of girly.
—Holding hands at everything we go to.
—Inside jokes that only we know about.
So much more….
for romanticism – ever since i’ve broken up with my ex bf i’ve had completely irrational crushes on so many boys.
one boy i talked to for about an hour in my friends kitchen at a party and i hoped that he’d ask me to go home with him. which is not like me. but gee was he attractive. i finally told him i was going to the bathroom so i could stop talking to him because i was so nervous.
i keep hoping he’ll leave me secret love notes on facebook or i’ll see him at another party cross fingers
for love – i love my friends
How responsive he is to my moods, without asking. If I’m in pain, he’ll carry me, give massages, get me whatever I need. If I’m sad, he knows exactly what will make me feel better. He pushes my limits and encourages me to try new things, even if I regret agreeing to them. He cuddles in our sleep and wraps blankets around me when I’m cold. He discovers new ticklish spots. He calms me when I’m angry. He makes me laugh with utter nonsense, just with silly voices.
I’m so infatuated right now, so I’m waiting to notice more flaws. I hope that I’ll have no problem loving those.
I am infatuated with many things, but one long-lasting love affair has been the avocado.
My mother tells me that when I was little, she fed me avocado as my first non-‘baby food’. It was my first foray into the world of chewing.
Even now I am a strong believer that an avocado can make all the difference in 90% of meals. Partially as a result of growing up in Southern California, I make a killer guacamole…& use it to break the ice with new people in my life. My partner loves avocados almost as much as I do.
Once in a while, people will try to tell me their negative avocado propaganda (calories this-calories that) & I take it in stride & smile at them & create a shield of moderation around myself.
Smooth – creamy – in milkshakes, on sandwiches, in salads, ...straight up, with a sprinkle of sea salt!
So many choices & uses to devour. & you get to choose. Just like life.
-taking care of me when I’m sick.
-picking up things for me just because he knows I’d like whatever it may be.
-downloading a ton of tv shows/movies and putting them on a portable drive for me.
-appreciating what I do.
-traveling together and having fun wherever we go.
-being honest with each other, there are no secrets here.
-making me feel like the sexiest girl alive, like nobody has ever done before.
-willing to be spontaneous!
-respect.
My young life has been full to the brim with crushes, infatuations, flings, and relationships- but only one love so far. He was the tall, dark skinned, and handsome young man in my chemistry class, in sweater vest and loafers and a huge, goofy, charming grin. He stood out immediately (I thought he must be an exchange student) and I resolved to meet him- I had fallen that fast.
I read a quote recently that a soul mate isn’t your perfect fit, but a mirror that shows you everything that holds you back and changes your life forever- this is what he was for me. Passionate, fearless, insane- his take on life was entirely original, and exciting. My life was electric for those months we were together- we took baths and bike rides together, he played me music and wrote songs about me, we’d lay naked in his sunlit bed and smoke reefer or in a sleeping bag under the stars and talk about all the possibilities. He wanted to marry me. He wanted to move away with me. And just as quickly as it began, it ended- he quit his job, spent all his money on plane tickets to Europe for 3 months, got kicked out of his house and began playing his violin on the streets for change. He was someone else, and I was devastated. Oh, but I am glad to have loved him!
it’s not talking for years and then picking up like it was yesterday. curly haired boys who are proud of their cars. boys with dark soft hair who live during the night. secret rendezvous behind grocery stores, in the park, long drives. someone who shampoos your hair. when the right song plays at the right time. being the big spoon in bed. kisses on your neck while you do the dishes. looking at the stars. keeping your eyes open during sex. holding you up when it’s too slippery to walk in your heels. buying plants instead of flowers. plotting out your future life. text messages. missing the bus and class to spend one more night together. taking care of yourself to prove your love for them. catchphrases. strength in vulnerability. hearing secret stories. hearing “i love you” too late, too early, the right time. zines filled with obsession. the most wonderful smell in the world. being wanted in the middle of the night. feeling like your brain is intertwined with theirs. bumpers in bowling alleys. long good byes. looking at each other from across the room during a busy party. a song for you. beautiful boys who know they are handsome. it’s your hands being the same size, it’s pale skin, it’s long lashes, it’s strong arms, it is freckles (especially the ones on his ears), it is lavender massage oil and feeling your shirt come off. it’s spending the day together, hungover. it’s cheap breakfast with friends at a hole-in-the-wall. it is pigeons and feisty girls. dancing and after parties and being called “team”. when you are broke and they buy you a crate of ramen noodles. friends who help you move. a hug and a beer during a break up. the bartender remembering your name. your father’s valentine’s day card. sisters who call. sisters who laugh. your nickname for your mother. “remember when…” that goes on for hours. innate connections. forgiveness. sunshine and moonshine. promises. magic.
For me, it’s waking up at one in the afternoon on a Saturday, rolling over and seeing him sound asleep next to me. It’s the way he gives me “the perfect egg” when he makes breakfast. The way he squeezes my fingers when he holds my hand in the car so that his fingers fit between my knuckles, the way he makes me surprise packages to take on long plane rides. How he guides me to what answers I know I have but can’t bring out. He makes me laugh and make strange noises xD How he steals all the blankets in the middle of the night but gives me one for Christmas thats mine :) He tickles me (which I secretly like even though I’m fidgety) and how we dance to blues music while we make dinner…
There’s more, I’m sure, but I still have too many butterflies to think of them all.
Love is when you come back to your hotel from a concert completely furious with your mother and the sweetest French-Canadian boy opens the door for you, and with two words—bon soir— you can’t recall what you were angry about and all you can remember is the way he looked at you when he said it.
I have no idea what his name is or if he’s still working at that hotel, but boy, I hope he knows that 1,787 miles away in an entirely different country, there will be always be somebody who loves him.
it’s sharing vegetarian meals even though he is not remotely vegetarian; it’s hugging someone when they need it most; it’s tears while staring blankly at a car window; it’s swings on playgrounds; it’s him buying you the certain piece of artwork you secretly been eyeing; it’s late night phone calls that talk about everything;...
Meeting up on our own outside of school or the internet for the first time and him saying “Well, you’re the most adorable thing I’ve ever seen” or not saying anything at all because he’s so scared and so am I, having my first kiss with the boy I’d spend the next four to five years loving so much that it physically hurt when I would think about it and that weekend that he stayed with me for the first time and the drunk phone call I got on the 4th of July telling me that it was always me and never anyone else, and washing my dog together, and going to the city together and making him read a subway map when he’d never really been to the city, and passing my best friend’s inspection, and the day I spent with him in Philadelphia, and me crying for days when he went away to Ft. Benning Gerogia, and the stupid phone bill I got for calling him from Mexico, and me not wanting him to resent me for having sex, and me getting in a car with people I didn’t know to come and visit him in Georgia for him to tell me that you’re glad we’re still together and that you haven’t managed to mess it up yet, and that stupid sweater that I bought for him that he almost bought while we were in that Mall in Georgia and I had to send his brother to distract him and he bought it in another color anyway, and the roses that he sent me for my birthday that I told him to get me, but he still thinks it was his idea, and always missing the sunset because we were too busy staring at each other or pushing each other, and fighting and laughing and messing around with each other while other people are in the room just to see if we could get away with it, and laying down and sleeping together and renting 5 movies that we didn’t watch, and saying goodbye and saying hello just to say goodbye again and trying new things because it’s important to try the things the person you love so much is interested in, and then there was laying on a hill listening to classical music and watchind the stars, and going to Deleware and having sex for the first time with my best friend after having waited all those years and chosen carefully who I wanted my first to be. Driving to nowhere and listening to music that we think the other has never heard of but should because they’d like it. Stealing t-shirts and keychains from him because I wanted something to remind me of him wherevever I went, and reading books I knew he read so that I could talk to him about them and then actually enjoying the books and learning to love myself through heartbreaks which makes the heartbreak worth it in the end.
Knowing that the cosmos will always provide your perfect companion, love affair just when you need it. That is love I depend on. I find it in my surroundings, my environment. There are times when I think” that flower is there so I can love and appreciate it.” When I am alone I know that is the perfect time to love myself, when I am in a place bustling with other souls I know that is the time to love them. Everything becomes so rich when you embrace the moment. It’s so powerful. I fall in love with almost everyone who comes into where I work. I meet their eyes and it’s magical. Since I have adopted this kind of mentality my life has become outstandingly romantic. I have fallen deeply and truly in love. When we are together my whole body like jelly and I beam and don’t know what to do about it. Mix tapes and origami birds and little kisses in dark parks and long walks and strangers giving you beautiful gifts and secret adventures and an abundance of hugs. Sentimental dinners and love stories… little note books. Shared conspiracies. Contagious laughter. Music. Text messages and pet names. Being told I love sends shivers down my spine. Jackets to keep you warm. I feel so nurtured by him. Forbidden love , which adds to the mystique. Love that only we can understand. I am so happy.
After kissing for the first time in 5 years of liking each other on and off, the boy I like and I stood in my basement with foreheads touching. He told me one of the sweetest things I’ve heard as of late, that has stayed with me for the past 3 weeks: “You don’t know how long I have been wanting to kiss you.”
I keep repeating it to myself because right now, we aren’t speaking much. But I know there is something there and I’m trying to be hopeful and patient, as trying as it :)
And I want to keep feeling that amazing feeling that’s there when you have a crush. The butterflies and the tummy flips! I want to feel the rush I do every time I hold his hand and every time we fall asleep together. I love how simple the infatuation is, yet it affects me so.
Falling asleep in the backs of cars in parking lots, drunk piggyback rides up stairs, staying up all night to sneak him in just to fall asleep together for a few hours, sitting outside in the cold and smoking, tired insomniac eyes, stealing me away at odd hours in the night, forehead kisses, making love in closets, building forts in bed, kissing away tears, rubbing my tummy, singing ‘you are my sunshine’, connecting (27) freckles on his back to make an impossible constellation, silly bear stain carpets on my bedroom floor, carrying me across the snowy parking lot, endless question games. loving you despite all the shit i’ve gone through.
Well, I’ve an excellent subject- he’s my first boyfriend, first kiss, first love, and first “I love you”. It’s playing Halo together only to get distracted by kissing, it’s watching your favorite movie with him and squealing over the best parts (even if it’s in French and he has no idea what’s going on), reading all my silly stories and notes, letting me put glitter on his face, taking silly picture of him staring at an acorn and wearing enormous hats, talking about Marxism and the ‘you have two cows’ government analogy. It’s a quick hug before Web Design class starts, and purposefully messing up your coding so he can come over and ‘help’ you fix it, creating fantastic alter-egos with German names and demon wings and fairy magic, and playing laser tag together and ending up on top. It’s learning things from each other, from how to ignore the little arguments to the battles and generals of the Civil War.
It’s amazing. And it’s been over a year so far. :)
Sneaking out of the house at 16, to meet him in the park. He let me try on his creepers and he kissed me on the bleachers. He gave me discs that reminded him of me, he let me cry on his shoulder so many times. We drank coffee in my car, listened to thrash metal, and stayed out too late. I remember bagels, the morning after. Sharing cigarettes. I remember how it hurt when he went away, and how nothing ever was the same when he came back.
Love is asking for a phone number, asking for a date. It worked out perfectly and we clicked. Driving through the mountains on our 2nd date, eating pizza after a reggae show. I remember our first kiss, staying up until 5am and going to work with stubble burn from so many kisses. Cooking together, getting drunk together, and smoking on the roof. Making out on the beach, posing for photos. The first time we broke up. The first time we got back together. The second time we broke up, and I’m trying hard to move on.
He whispered dirty things to me at the bar. I was wearing a corset, high heels, and lipstick. We went for martinis, he called me “glam punk”. I drank Strongbow all night and told myself I wouldn’t go home with him. I went home with him. I’d do it again in a second.
Oh! And it’s poetry written especially for me, and nicknames and obsessing over christmas and birthday gifts becuase I want him to know how much I love him with how much thought I give the little things, and being 20 years old and still scribbling names enclosed in hearts in my college notebooks.
This strikes me as funny, because I was just writing a letter to an unrequited love for closure. Here’s a part of it…
Some days, I feel as if you were pleasant dream, nothing more. A vague, murky dream with highlights of love and curiosity. Would you believe me if I told you that I loved you with all my heart? I did. You never knew it, but you had my heart. It cost me many tears and sleepless nights. In the end, I had to take it back. I had a life to live. I couldn’t keep pining for a girl who never knew I pined for her. I’m sorry that you never knew. I wish I spoke up. Perhaps everything would have been different. I don’t regret the times I spent with you, but I do regret never have gotten to know you. We could have been wonderful friends. But it just wasn’t meant to be.
Oh, love.
Standing in the middle of Toys R Us and freaking out over WWE wrestling action figures. Playing with Transformers. Going to dinner and Walmart to play in the toy aisle after a long day at work. Giant pink cocktail rings. Feeding each other Jett Puff and discussing how lame it is. Making dinner together while listening to Lil Wayne. Being told I look like the Hulk when I accidentally wear green and purple without thinking. Playing Pokemon until midnight. Sneaking under the covers humming the Jaws theme. Yelling “10 points for Gryffindor” when wearing red and gold undies. Going to the park and sliding down hills on cardboard boxes. Kisses at red lights. Discussing Harry Potter and World of Warcraft in crowded places like nobody else is around. Putting up with NASCAR because I have an infatuation with it. Putting up with Twilight because I have a bigger infatuation with it. Hugs. Kisses. Kisses on the nose. Kissing until the dog starts whining because nobody will pet him. Singing Big & Rich in the car.
Just being with him.
Aw. I’m going to send this to him now once he gets online. :]
Oh wow, my best moments would have to be..
*Trying a hole in the wall Italian restaurant, finding out the food is terrible, and then going to the grocery store and eating Oreos for dinner.
*Holding my hand in my coat pocket because it’s too cold and we don’t have gloves.
*Making cookies at 5 am and watching cheesy movies from the 90s
*Late night phone calls and risque text messages
*Missing each other while we are apart, then picking up like we only left for a day instead of a month
*Sneaking into the shower together while my family is downstairs
*Video game matches
*Snuggling until we get tangled up in sheets and then fall asleep
Love; when you feel a wave of butterflies everytime he drifts into your thoughts. When you feel like you’re underwater, like you’re intoxicated by his affection. When he writes poems about you and you think you might burst. When you are in a group conversation, but you finish each other’s sentences and roll off each others topics – like you are one and the same. Slow, sensual kisses. Big, warm and crushing hugs. Long conversations at absurd times in the early morning, when all the world is silent, and makes you feel like you two are the only people existing at that very moment.
My best guy friend and I were at some dorky school dance, and we ended up slow dancing. I’m about 5’4”, and at the time he was easily 6’2”, and he got really frustrated with bending over, so he just picked me up and we danced like that. Hahah. And one time we went to the co-op grocery store and bought organic chocolate ice cream and ate it at the funeral home. Some of the cutest moments of my life have been with that kid.
It’s hand drawn with crayon mix cd’s in my lettter box, it’s Mickey Mouse lollypops for Valentines, walking home in the snow slightly drunk on our last night together, it’s holding your hand to pretend to keep warm, it’s smsing away all my phone credit with you until midnight when I’m supposed to be studying, it’s riding a ferris wheel and wishing you would say something, it’s swapping stories about our tattoo’s under the sheets, it’s star gazing and waiting for the Northern Lights.
Gala, that’s all I got! That is really the extent of my real life love stories from a to z. Anyway, I like this idea of storytelling xo
My version of love is (I’m a Sagittarian so you should take this with a grain of salt) :
It’s a giant smile when I walk into a room, feeling like I don’t know him at all so how can I already tell that I like them?
Fire Sign Boys with social graces but wickedly glinting, up-to-no-good eyes. Uncertainty and dancing and self-consciousness and the moment before anything romantic happens yawning out before you, like a beautiful cliff. Realizing that you’ve been holding your breath. Having my ears whispered into. Blushing because of it.
The first kiss, where I pounced him and he was speechlessly shocked. The first kiss in the car, listening to Axl Rose. The time when I knew I was going to kiss him and he looked up at me and said “ohhhh no”, which sounded as much like “here comes trouble” as “YES PLEASE”. Him being so nervous before we kissed that his heartbeat visibly shook his cuffs and the tips of his hair.
Being picked up and twirled around. Nudity outdoors, snuggling in a warm bed when the world is cold, talking until the sun comes up. Unexpected gifts, naptime, surprise visits, showering together, feeling like a sweet, silly, well-loved girl.
Thanks Gala. I needed that.
well, my guy friend just offered to make me chocolate chip cookies because I told him about my bad day. that was very nice of him.
this is so incredible!
but i can’t contribute, i’ve never had love, and i’m still trying to figure out if it exists, and i’m way to chicken to ever actually have a relationship…maybe one day
these stories are so sweet! :D
Falling asleep on his arm in the early evening, and waking up and asking him what the time is.
Waking up and telling each other the dreams we had.
Going to concerts and dancing in the front row when everyone else is standing still or head-nodding.
Cooking risotto together.
Whispering “I want to buy a cat” into his ear in Russian, and him thinking it was really attractive.
A handwritten poem for Valentine’s day, with a dozen yellow roses because they are my favourite (they are the nicest smelling roses in my opinion), and handmade chocolates. A delicious Italian meal accompanied by a lot of Sangria and stumbling home.
Celebrating our ability to walk for 5 minutes by kissing for another 5.
Drinking Orgasm cocktails together.
Feeding each other grapes on a bus.
Singing in public.
Singing in private.
Having adventures in oversized supermarkets.
Talking about all the cards we’d add to the Fluxx game.
Making a pilgrimage to SFC, not to buy anything.
I think it’s far more mundane than all that.
Being as comfortable around someone as if you were alone, only better.
Both parties apologising genuinely after an argument.
A favourite treat for the other picked up on an ordinary grocery run.
I’ve too often been deceived by flowers and chocolates, flirting, public displays of affection and butterflies in the stomach. I would rather have something that is part of my every day life and I that can see continuing forever.
All these stories are so amazingly beautiful.
This Valentines Day, I went on my first real date with a guy I hardly know. I didn’t wear my glasses, so he had to read me the subtitles of the movie. We kept talking, random little conversations, and pissed off our friends, who kept saying “aww” anyway.
We went to the pet store, looked at fish and (I) meowed at cats. We held hands in the dark, stepped over potholes and he held my hand as we went inbetween cars in the parking lot.
He told me I smelt like chocolate
Him laughing at you when you get excited about the summer rain, so that you feel silly, but then later he takes you outside where he has secretly laid out blankets, which are now all wet, and you have sex in the summer rain.
Having awful food poisoning together on Valentine’s Day and still finding each other madly beautiful in spite of all the vomit and nausea. Taking care of each other even when we’re not feeling great.
Love is for perpetually single, possibly asexual people too!
Love is that moment when you’re just standing there, and suddenly you realise how special and AMAZING that very moment is, and you just bubble up and overflow with sheer happiness, just living, loving the world, and yourself for being in it. That is my love.
There’s familial love too, but there’s no need to illustrate it too much – you know, when you glance over at your sister and she glances back and you share an entire conversation that is silent to the world. It’s one of those cool things I can’t do with people outside the family.
Boys who write strange stories about you in their lunch-times, with photo-copied dictionary definitions of favoured punction marks and scrawled hand-written notes with explanatory pictures.
Fingers which sit on bowed strings, and mouths which quiver when they move. That gorgeous way that knuckles bend when they’re curved over slender bows, and closed eyes with perfect rows of eyelashes, blinking.
The perfect cup of tea. Midnight picnics. Chaucer recited with real Middle English pronunciation. Four people in a photobooth, all kissing at once. Love notes on elbows (so you have to find a mirror to read them!).
Girls who leave perfect lipstick imprints on everything.
Boys who leave post-it notes all over your bedroom walls, inside your bed, wardrobe, on your monitor, inside your stick-insect house and journal; telling you exactly what they love about you, and why.
Slow-dancing in the snow. And scrabble in hospital. Engravings on desks and benches and skin. Long-distance phonecalls. Polkadot underwear. Every first kiss.
And photographs. Of everything.
Mine is bittersweet, but is an excellent reminder not to let it happen again: Realizing just a moment too late that I was in love with him, and that now I would never be able to tell him. Not because he was simply “gone,” but because he was as gone as one can be, irrevocably. It was his baby-fine hair between my fingers, feeling beautiful when he kissed me, the visit when I first moved to school and was homesick, and kissing at red lights in the city.
That is exactly what I’m looking for, and I will look until I find it again, even if it takes forever.
haha!
getting excited over the same silly things! throwing random quotes from movies we like into conversation and being delighted when the other person responds. cheering each other up with Mighty Boosh clips from youtube. understanding that feeling you just cant explain properly. making snow monsters, which really ended up looking like two little hills with googly eyes and mismatched twig-antlers, but being convinced we have created something stupendous worth bragging about. cooking together! and singing and dancing and air guitaring at the same time to Beatles and Led Zeppelin. him looking after me even tho we drank a bottle of Jack Daniels between the two of us and it had a strange reaction with the cough syrup and made me freak him out with tales of portals in my vagina. singing totoro! totoro!. sharing cigarettes. sharing a beer coz we cant afford two. epic, mind blowing sex. looking at him and being amazed.
It’s haunting eyes and soul felt goodbyes. Shared smoothies within the cafe. Thoughtful sniffs and secret smiles. Those cryptic inuendos trailing along in a lighthearted conversation. Streetlights and stop signs with so many memories of the roads you’ve taken. Songs that drift behind your heart, attached by fragile strings that last for many years to come. It’s that single word that stops you in your tracks. Colors of every kiss. Shoes that seems to communicate with a language all of their own. The curve of a tree as it blows in the wind. The stories etched into the metal of an old park slide. The scrapbooks that get buried underneath all of your love letters. Spearmint gum wrappers. Plane tickets of better times. The textured feel of lips. The shade of lipstick left on the collar of his shirt.
It’s a making out session SO intense, that we knock over the coffee table with mugs of hot tea, and laugh in wonder at the ruckus we’ve caused.
It’s waking up to the pounding sound of rain and breathing. It’s the way he held my face before kissing me.
It’s the view of the moon behind the Lions Gate Bridge, just before I roll my ankle while holding his hand.
It’s the rock with a painting of a half-lizard half-goat (gizzard) that he gives me before he moves away from my city.
It’s falling for each other while rehearsing a play.
It’s backstreet boys tickets tucked into new pajamas for my birthday.
It’s speaking to me in Spanish. French. Latin.
It’s the smell of Old spice.
It’s tattoos on a beautiful body.
It’s the ages 15, 22 and 24.
It’s omnipresent. Everyday.
It’s the nervous confession of love. The awkward silences that grow into meaningful conversation. Walking in a city, hand in hand. Thai take-away in a park. Being presented a wonderful gift while gazing out the top of a tower, looking over Copenhagen. Giggling in bed with my lover, like best friends. A hike in the wilderness followed by a picnic. It is rekindling love.
Love is the nervous feeling yo get in your tummy right before you see them.
smiling everytime you think of them or any small thing that reminds you of them
love is that safe warm and content feeling that no one else could ever give you
love is feeling like your heart is in pieces every time you say good bye and then gradually pulling together because its not goodbye for ever more of a see you again soon.
love is his fingers tracing patterns on my back when we’re in bed
Love is realising that even though that person isn’t yours anymore, you still think of them every day, longing for things that could have been and should have been. having crazy dreams that you’re with them and happy and waking up to the crushing reality that it was just a dream.
A strange essay about my knees he wrote for English class and knowing that he’s moving to L.A. in six months and big, goofy smiles (especially because of the little gap between his front teeth) and being together after almost breaking up.
It’s having him give you mixed messages. It’s going in for the chase. It’s the utter bubbling nervousness that comes when you message him online, only to find out he’s just not an online talker. It’s when he catches you int he halls, makes sure he touches you- grabs your arm, meets your hand, or at least catches and holds your eyes. It’s when he calls you name and keeps the gaze but has nothing to say. It’s the way he says your name. It’s making a cd/journal for a best friend with lyrics and quotes. It’s her coming clean and being honest for the first time. It the emptiness of WalMart early in the morning and late at night. It’s going driving at night. I might love too many things. I’m infatuated with a boy who likes me back (!! yay!) and might give me mixed signals, but I can’t help but love him. It’s watching NASCAR (Why did I do it?! AHH!) only because you found out that he races cars, and was probably at the racetrack thirty minutes from here watching the Dayton 500 in person. It’s watching the several car crash and realizing that you really do like watching the cars go around and around and around. It’s not having to change yourself for him.
It’s been love songs and awkward first time sex, literally chasing each other and kissing in the rain. Then it was that old infatuation turned obsession turned inseparable friendship where everyone thinks you’re secretly together because you are. It was buying amine porn together for laughs, getting tattoos and holding each other in that chalet in the mountains while your boyfriend was in town and his girlfriend sleeping upstairs, and more than anything it was chemistry that wouldn’t quit after years. Later it was spontaneity, running away and cinematics. It was looking into each others’ eyes and knowing exactly who we were, seeing more in the other person than what we saw in ourselves.
Now it’s sexy blues dancing, letting our glasses fog up as we kiss, long cliché baths together, fondue and nerdiness and pure honesty. It’s laughing uncontrollably after sex, holding each other until we can’t breathe and shouting “I love you!” for the first time. It’s realising that even though I wish I’d not been so flippant in high school when I met him, the time apart makes us closer now.
being sung to in another language. love at first sight. holding hands and not wanting to break away. signs from the universe. the taste of his name in my mouth. wrapping my legs around his waste and kissing him in an unknown city at night. dancing extremely sweaty and provactavely to great music while also meeting for the first time. the best conversations of my life. the best compliments i’ve ever received.
theres a strong smell of flowers and wet grass overwhelming my senses and warm sunshine peaks in underneath my floral blindfold. alice’s hand is holding onto mine and she leads me forward to a mysterious place. wildflowers swish against my white lace slip and tiny droplets of sweat intertwine with my brunette curls, now past shoulder length from a summer of growing them out… finally i hear alice giggle and her little hands untie the blindfold. i open up my eyes and see what i know MUST be heaven: a field of wildflowers and tall grass and a thick patch of trees on the distant side of a large pond… ‘happy tuesday!’ alice yells, before shedding her pink lace tank top and turquiose petticoat and running like a little girl into the warm summer water. ‘come on!’ she cries. i carefully fold up my white slip and step timidly into the water before alice pulls me under. we laugh and splash and swim in circles before climbing out exhaustedly and lying our backs onto the itchy grass. we talk about our love and lives and tell stories and share secrets and kiss until the sun begins to set. and then we slip back into our dresses and ride our VW Bug back into the city, where we spend the evening watching old shirley temple movies on VHS...
xoxo
girl
- Eyes meeting across the office where I used to work when he came to fix the computers – A sudden spark, butterflies in my stomach – Speaking once, very briefly, then not seeing him for over a year – A message on myspace, out of the blue – Meeting up and again feeling that undeniable spark – Being together for almost 2 years and still getting butterflies when I look at him – Amazing chemistry that I didn’t think was possible – Silly nicknames – Saying ‘I love you’ countless times each day – Falling asleep holding hands – Both of us finally feeling comfortable in our bodies because the other one constantly tells us how beautiful we are – Gazing into each other’s eyes during sex – Mutual trust and respect – Cuddles when we get home from work – Planning our life together – Knowing I’ve found the one I want to be with for good
Its about the impression you made the first time we met, the times you came to see me after we’d both just came back in from nights out with different people just to chat before bedtime. The friend you were. The way you make me laugh. The mixed messages & uncertainty. The first move you made. The drunken texts you sent which always woke me up but i which i miss. That first time we watch a film together and talked all the way through so you had to explain what was going on. Sneaking across the hall at stupid o’clock in the morning to see each other. The fact that we were the only people who knew. It was a nightime romance. Your accent & strange words. The way you called me ‘trouble’. The way you stroked my hair and told me it smelled nice. That gentle, unsure first kiss & then kissing for what seemed liked hours. Snuggling up in your double douvet on a single bed. Holding hands with you. Using your chest as my pillow. Sleeping next to you. The safeness of your arms wrapped around me. Listening to your heartbeat whilst your in a deep sleep & i lay awake. Your aftershave. My hoodie smelling of you for days. Your messy room & chaotic flat. Your ringtone which stayed in my head for ages after when it woke me up that morning. The fact that opposite attracted. Even though there was months in between there was still somethin there to go back to. You being the first man I let that close. The fact i thought about you every night. That feeling when i saw you again when you came back.
First, I was infatuated with him. He seemed young and cute, and I was dating someone I didn’t even like that much — was one of those relationships where you talk yourself into staying “because I’ve already been with him for 3 years…” Anyway, he was quiet, which made me think he was naive (boy, was I wrong!) and I wanted to teach him dirty things. But I fell in love when I realized that although he was quiet, he wasn’t naive. He knew exactly what he was doing. He was sweet. He made me feel like a genius. He made me feel like I could do anything. Whole worlds of possibility just opened up because of his underlying attitude of “why not?” What I thought would be just a freaky infatuation or a wild fling turned out to be the love of my life, my best friend and my partner in crime. Love woke me up from a stupor and threw me into orbit.
climbing up on the rooftop to watch the sun set in a glorious explosion of color. curling up together and reading books. Wandering around in the forest during a cicada hatch, plucking the just born insects off of the trees and depositing them on each other. The first time we had sex; outdoors at the very back of his family’s sheep field. going to the theater to see awesomely terrible geeky movies. Driving back from prom and running out of gas. cooking together. When he finally asked me out after two years of waiting. Celebrating 5 years of togetherness. just being held tightly against him in a warm embrace.
how’s that for a stream of consciousness?
aside from the love my family is giving me,friendship love is essential. and can be shown in simple things.
like, getting surprise letters from my girlfriends, or doing silly vidoekes not minding if we are intune or not, or talking on the phone with them and gossiping about whats new on mtv, or that sheer insane chats we do in ym…
basic but gives a whole lot of meaning to my life…
Today. Going hiking in a downpour with the man I’ve been in love with for months. We hiked for an hour or so, then had lunch in a cave. On the way back, we stopped on the side of the mountain to look at the view. We laughed together, and then I grabbed him for a hug. He took me in his arms, and we stood there for a minute. It started to rain, so we broke apart and I thought that meant time to get moving again. Instead, he opened the umbrella we’d been using as a walking stick, and held it over us, and we simply stood there.
My boyfriend, who shows up at my work some days with a dozen yellow and orange roses just because he knows they’re my favourites, told me he loved me for the first time 37,000 feet above the ground flying to Germany with me, buys me jewelry for “no reason, just saw it and thought of you”, babysits my younger siblings so I can take care of my mother, drives over to my house at 3 in the morning when I get scared of the dark and can’t sleep, writes me long notes, poems, and songs, has an ongoingly continuous list of everything he loves about me, compliments me extra on scrub days, sucks it up and watches hockey games with me even though sports are not his thing, and brings me breakfast in bed when I’m sick. Above and beyond for a seventeen year old, and enough to send my little girl brain spinning with love.
getting to kiss the boy i wanted to find under the mistletoe in this post: galadarling.com/article/icing
go figure, i set that intention and two days later it happened. just a little magic for you :)
and now it’s gotten even better…
it’s the way he stays so calm when I cry. how he held my knees and told me what he would have written on the card i didn’t have. not flowers or chocolate but a t-shirt with a dinosaur for valentine’s day. knowing that i would like that a million times more. his gorgeous green eyes in the morning, and how he always pulls me really close to say hello, like all night he’s been missing me in his sleep. being admired for the things i most admire about myself, and being supported for being strong and smart. talking until we fall asleep, and his insistence on trying to stay awake so i won’t be lonely. a new year’s kiss. watching ducks in the boston harbor, kissing at stop lights, his hand gently touching the back of my neck as we cross the street. millions of jokes. having more nicknames than most people collect in an entire lifetime. those knowing looks across the classroom when something funny happens. feeling completely at ease with myself, unafraid to say something wrong or look foolish. holding hands on a snowy sidewalk. knowing i am treasured… and treasuring the beauty i see all around me in return.
Singing “I Will Always Love You” by Whitney Houston to me perfectly. Feeding the cat. Riding the train together on the way to and from school.
Its sunflowers, claiming a church park as our own, daydreaming out loud about fancy trips, Taking naps together, being taken care of when I’m too sick to get off the couch, kissing broken toes, sharing a meatball sub and a cupcake with a pickle and lemonade,when she sleepily told me that she loved me in the middle of the night a few days ago and didn’t remember it upon waking, this INCREDIBLE valentines day weekend, making up, long long long draaaaagged out goodbyes, thinking up surprises, talking for hours about absolutely nothing, having a reason to have a ‘out of bed before 2’ rule, those days when she’s all I can think about, having a massive crush on her after so long, having no apparent expiration date, saying the same things over and over, not wanting to be with anyone else and knowing she feels the same way… Not being able to finish my list because I cant even find the words.
I’m in super-love, guys.
Love is making peanut butter & jelly sandwiches and being whisked up onto the counter for the sweetest kisses. Being hooked up to all sorts of scary machines in the doctors office, and thinking of his silly dances, causing a fit of giggles. Cooking dinner with friends at another apartment, and he finds you, just to show you the sunset. Making a special run to the grocery store to stock up on gobs of candy and eating it in bed. Fingertip and forehead kisses. Dreaming of big old houses. Taco Bell runs at midnight, windows down, singing our hearts out to Ben Folds Five. Always knowing what the other is feeling. Dying to come home just hear and tell of the day’s adventures. Bodies so intertwined, not being able to tell if it’s your leg or his. Love notes and doodles left in mysterious places. Fishy kisses, puppy licks, and bunny noses. Silly dances, silly faces, silly noises. And always laughter, laughter, laughter.
(Crying reading all these sweet stories.)
I suppose I’ll write about the first and only time (so far) that I’ve fallen in love.
Adventures to beautiful and ugly places, long car rides singing along to music, hair blowing in the wind, a sudden realization of feelings, moving forward with life and leaving behind what didn’t work, getting together despite all the obstacles, stroking my cheeks from across the table during dinner, holding hands and running over sandy beaches and chasing waves, holding hands in the park, countless nights laying together in his car or mine, talking underneath the stars at the park at night, passionate kisses at my doorway, warm glowing afternoons in my bed, pink underwear, tearful goodbyes, napping on his lap, crying together, dreaming together about traveling the world and volunteering, dizzying first kiss under the moonlight, undelivered love letters, countless hours in the library, curled hair, a swing for one hanging from a tree branch, tough lessons and high expectations, undeniable love, and an abrupt ending.
love is carrying me to bed after i’ve fallen asleep in front of twin peaks. it is meeting up trees and kissing in fields. watching me play the piano in a windowless room. driving four hours to frankfurt at three in the morning to pick me up. spending all of my money on phone cards to hear his voice from taiwan, tokyo. it is sleeping on benches and in metro stations in paris and on buses, aged sixteen, sleepy and with bags full of records and books and no clothes. it is climbing through old growth rainforests in a deluge, and boys who carry my bags in the czech republic. it is long letters and living together and breaking up and planning to be old and blue-haired together one day, anyway. it is watching disney’s ‘alice in wonderland’ and breaking into closed-off gardens at night and reading to me when i am sick. it is waiting three years for me to realise i feel exactly the same way, and that we are finally in the same headspace. it is waking up this morning, every morning in fact, and feeling buzzed and wired and ecstatic just to be there, skin to skin. it is luck and phantasm and adventures. it is everpresent, and a romance i feel towards everyone and everything, not just one other person.
I am lucky enough to be in a situation where I can write about this now, and there are so many things to write about but I want to talk about the most important thing, unconditional love.
It is the most amazing feeling to have someone that I can fully trust and who understands me completly. He was there for me after I lost my Mum, after all the hard family issues, after having to deal with loss and grief and a general hatred of the world.
I know that whatever I am going through that I have the support that I need, and I am getting to the stage that I am not afraid to ask for help.
And I am happy every day because of him.
Love for me right now: Pining and missing and wishing!
But rediculously happy none the less, I wouldn’t have anyone else. It’s stealing kisses on new years from a boy whom I used to terrorise in maths class years ago. It’s seeing the side that no one else is allowed to see. Its cute text messages and plan making. It’s him calling me his “sea maiden”. It’s getting rediculously worried when he hurts himself. It’s hope for what is to come in my new love story, and the changes that the future holds!
It’s the first time I noticed the enormous size of his heart and soul. Realizing my feelings for him while listening to an eighties song. Sneaking down two flights of stares at 4 in the morning just to kiss him. The rapid speed at which we became incredibly comfortable with each other. Standing in the freezing cold in my pajamas crying while his arms are wrapped tightly around me. Recognizing that our eyes are the same color. Breaking up only to find we just can’t stay away from each other. Subliminal messages through irish love songs. The first “I love you” and the intensely happy tears that followed. Sitting on his couch watching the “Shining” and commenting on how beautifully teenage the whole thing feels. Getting dressed up to go swing dancing. Staying up late talking about potential tattoos and exchanging corny jokes while his roommate sleeps across the room. Being met at the train station with roses. Eating leftovers and questioning the world. Looking at lingerie. Teasing. Dancing to techno in his bedroom instead of doing homework. It’s laying on a picnic table, looking at the stars as it starts to snow. Beautiful reunions and hours spent just staring at each other. Ugly-Face contests. Knowing that everything is okay. Holding hands in the city on a freezing cold day. Panda Express orange chicken. Loving the same art. Kissing on the train. Impromptu dates with Ben&Jerry’s and vitamin water. Feeling more sure about my feelings than I ever have in my entire life so far.
Romance is wonderful, sure. But the sweetest moment is indeed when you find out that your lover is also the best friend you’ve ever had.
love on valentines day to discovering Mary Fon’s poetry shes awesome.
romance for someone that doesn’t even know you exist so postsecret helps to get that off your chest.
infatuation for middle eastern, persian, indian looking girls are bomb with olive skin.
deliciousness moment was a time well spent with almond butter on a toasted raisin power bar in a gloomy rainy morning fills the body up goood.
Hmmm… Reading these comments is really interesting.
Gala, as always you have the best ideas.
I only know one love. My first.
This love was made up of secret kisses in Irish hotels, holding hands under the table, sending each other cute notes. Love is meeting the parents, calming down one another. Spending long days inside cuddling, it’s doing things you’d never do just to make the other person happy. It’s sexy dancing, cute smiles, constant thinking about each other. It is great. It is impossible to fully describe. It’s completely enjoying each other. It’s knowing you wouldn’t want to be anywhere else but with that person. It’s being Completely unashamed. It’s cooking an amazing dinner. Remembering little details like favorite flowers. It’s being able to work through things. It’s wonderful :)
Playground treehouses at four am in the morning when the wind is blowing,and jumping in abandoned shopping trolleys trying to steer in the wind.Making cupcakes for everyone else but never eating any ourselves.Skin and bones and more bones.Ice cream by the waterfront watching stingrays and talking for hours in the sun,being blinded.And endless questions.Infinity.Talking about Neverland and Peter Pan and we are going to get there.Love more than love.And night picnics,drinking six cups of tea spending hours sitting down half consumed by silence.Singing Bright Eyes quietly and dancing to Sonic Youth on a too soft bed.More love than these words.And falling asleep and waking up still in the same place,feeling safe.Tracing tattoos,and running my fingers along boney ribs.Hollow shoulders and raised collar bones.Perfect silence.Quiet lyrics to songs we know too well.Hugs on tiptoes.Being lost and found.Journals filled with everything.Train ride letters.And all the tears and smiles.Best friend kisses.Listening to your too loud heart.Reading the newspaper together.Late night train rides.Glowing lights.Til three o’clock in the morning talks.Breakfast in bed.Shopping and picking out outfits.Thrift shopping and finding old things.Wearing his clothes.Picnics in bed.Cold city walks on New Years through the gardens.Swings.And falling over and being picked from the pavement.Reading childrens books on the train in the afternoon.Winter coats brought after work for the cold walk up the hill.Watching your eyes change colour.Everything and nothing.
First kisses, and thousandth kisses… lazy mornings in bed – saying “I love you” just because – letting me sleep in, letting him sleep in – red roses and quiet moments together.
3 years together and still a smitten kitten :-)
For me, right now, i feel im too young to “fall” in love. Sounds like it hurts, almost. I thought i knew what love was once, and i think maybe i still do. But as i grow and learn, I feel love through all that i do that makes me feel good…it is everything that gives me that natural high, that lifts me off my feet, twirling me in circles up above the clouds. It gives me strength to carry on..things like running, lifting and challenging my body, moving to the music as it creeps up and down my spine.Vibration of the elegant Bass that takes place of my heart. It’s a feeling of pleasure, fantasy and bliss. A feeling that i know i cannot and do not want to mess up, kill, or ever change. A feeling that is rare, but dives deep in and out of my soul, while making my mind wonder,and think, and plan, and organize and realize that nothing can harm me in this single happy haziness of pure enlightenment. A feeling that takes many shapes and sizes, forming into liquids, solids and oxygen dreams. In this moment where i can make anything happen. I can make anyone smile, I can make anyone happy. I can make anyone feel whatever it is that relieves them of their worries. Sharing the warmth that i used to not understand, or believe i would ever get my hands on. This feeling that i am so incredibly happy to have, that tickles me pink, and makes me squeal with delight. This feeling is new to me every time. It is something i can play, stop, and rewind. Something I am never scared to show or don’t ever wish to hide.
I’ve been in love once.
I met him at a high school battle of the bands. He looked so awkward, he had black-painted fingernails and his hair was too long. Before it was over I gave him a hug and said “I think you’re really hot.” (How embarrassing to look back on now). He partially walked me home in the rain, and every day since then we had the most enthralling conversations. We became lovers as well as best friends, and I can still see the evolution of our relationship: from uncertainty to crazy in love to eventual demise. The relationship was meant to end and it was the right path for both of us, but I still miss him an immeasurable amount.
Things about our love that stand out to me:
It’s that chocolate-syrupy feeling you get in the pit of your stomach when you think of said person. The ability to be naked, unshowered, and greasy in front of them in all your disgusting glory and not feel ashamed or even fazed, and to know that they still think the sun shines out of your ass. Getting together and doing nothing, but still having the best time of your lives. Staying up from eleven p.m. to five a.m. talking to them on the phone, just talking about the past, the present, and the future. Discussing the future and including each other. Enjoying the feeling of giving just because you only want to see that person happy.
Going to Disney land. Showing him off at school in his uniform. Catching him watch you, while you’re watching him. Going to Mamma Mia! where he enjoys it.
I still remember him asking me for my number. The first boy I ever really loved, dancing with my best friend in the crosswalk while cars honked at us. I think she was more excited than I was. He walked me home every day. We talked, we smiled…it was puppy love. It was perfect and devastating at the same time. Now we’re at that awkward in-between place of does he or doesn’t he. I see him and my stomach still does a dance, I love him. I can’t deny that.
We woke up early in the morning and shared a pomegranate in my bed (my sheets are still stained pink from its juice). We explore every bit of forgotten city and walk across the industrial night sky silently singing love and freedom. This is impossibly wonderful and sometimes I feel like an enormous Icelandic volcano, all beautiful and loud and unexpected. He says I sound like the ocean on the telephone, like the tide is just coming in, and when we kiss I think it might save the world. I can feel it in my chest, and it is something luminous.
I am in hopeless, dreamy, summertime-forever love, and it is the best thing ever.
He found a book in a used bookstore and bought it for me, because he thought of me when he saw it.
It’s holding hands in rain, wind or shine. It’s when you squeeze his hand and he squeezes back. It’s when you spend the night together and wake up the next morning lying side by side holding hands. It’s when he fills your day with surprises taking you to an exhibition of graphic design then presenting you with a rose of your favourite childhood colour while sitting along the river. It’s having your arms wrapped around each other and not wanting to let go. It’s sneaking little kisses and secretly holding hands while on the bus, because both are too embarrassed. It’s standing on tippytoes to kiss him and seeing your face in his eyes. It’s inboxes filled with emails and phones filled with text messages which bring a smile to a face. It’s receiving cards with poetry and instinctively waking up at the same time at night. Finally it’s wanting to make the other person happy. I miss him.
I get that feeling every now and then, and it’s worth everything. I find it sometimes during our seances when I look up to see the faces of some of my best friends glowing from the tealight candles. Or us holding hands because otherwise we may cry more than our bodies can take. Or just sitting in front of the fire with mom’s apple cider giggling or just breathing and being comfortable with everything around us.
(Sidenote-someone here has the name Althea as well? Noooooooo wayyyyyy!!!)
Is the moment he said “I fully subwoofer love you” and everything that has happened since then.
And it’s the moment I found the One who made me capable of Love. The One who is Love. The One who saved me.
It’s walking home at midnight all alone holding hands, kissing at the crossroads. It’s speaking to me in only french when he knows I can barely understand him. It’s hiding suprises and kissing in the kitchen. It’s smiles across a room full of people, knowing that he’s watching me even when I can’t see him. It’s favourite sweaters and warm blankets. It’s hands on hips on a packed dance floor. It’s leaving at 6 am with a kiss and a promise. It’s staying the whole night the next time and waking up entangled and happy. It’s just the secret that we share.
It’s a love that understands and never judges. It’s holds my head up even when I want to let it fall. It’s being together and not needing to speak. It’s sharing secrets and ice cream. It’s giggling over a glass of wine. It’s sharing that shamful piece of cake while swearing to go to the gym together. It’s a warm cup of tea and a good story. It’s getting ready to go out feeling excited and giddy. It’s talking about dreams and desires. It’s admitting the things you want the most. It’s jumping in a car and having the time of your life. It’s getting angry together. it’s always having your back. it’s just being my best friend.
Seeing the soft side of a hard-ass, the first time holding hands and the butterflies it gives you, laying in bed for hours and not wanting to get up or do anything else, scrounging up change to get a $5 footlong to share, him saying “You smell good” and me asking “What do I smell like?” and the only response he could think of was “Just like… you”, but most of all I remember breaking up and a few weeks later sitting on his couch, both of us wanting to do something but knowing it was wrong, and how fast my heart was beating when he finally pulled me close and kissed me again.
It’s when he brings round cheap, sweet sparkling wine and chocolate cake at 1 in the morning and you go to the beach and lie down and watch the moon and the stars and the fluffy clouds, and then he strips off naked and runs into the ice cold sea, while you double over from laughing.
Looking at the moon knowing that your he, your love, is somewhere looking at it too…and looking for you.
I know I’ll fall in love someday:)
This comments are so incredible and pure. I’m happy reading about other people’s happiness. I’m happy because love exists :)
Its its flirting with them for months before they turned you down, then four days later telling you they do like you, they were just scared. Its that first kiss where you can feel the fear, and also feel it slip away. Its him laughing everytime you kiss him and he realises your on tiptoes. Its when you are so sick you can barely speak and you try to stop him, for his sake, but he still wants to kiss you. Its sharing clothes stained pink by the first load of washing you do together. Its lying in the shadows and tracing the bones of their face and touching their lips and felling his fingertips flutter over your eylids. Its being woken by a kiss in paris, and hourlong massage in belfast, a private sunset in santorini and tears in rome when you realise that you would give up anything for this boy. Its secretly calling him your golden adonis and being unable to believe how beautiful he makes you feel. Its that tiny tremour in his voice when he says i love you, like every single emotion is in that tremour. it holding hands whilst drivng and watching a shooting star on my birthday. Its when you wrestle and he pins you to the bed, and just laughs at you squirming. its the way the rest of the world fades away, and its just you two.
I miss him.
All of these stories made me remember and cry, thank you all!
Looking at the moon knowing that HE, your love, is somewhere looking at it too…and looking for you.
I know I’ll fall in love someday:)
This comments are so incredible and pure. I’m happy reading about other people’s happiness. I’m happy because love exists :)
(I messed up in the previous one, I always do that haha)
I’ve never had any moments. I don’t know if I’ve ever been truly in love, except for a few crushes. I’ve never been in a relationship.
But the day I fall in love it’s gonna be like whoaaaaaaaaaaa…
The day I fall in love it’s gonna be that kind of love thats lfts you up into the air. Old school. Ditto on the Frank Sinatra at 4 a.m.
I’m gonna fall in love with a musician or a photographer.
I’m gonna fall in love with someone who will make me laugh.
Someone who nourishes my dreams.
Heart-bursting happiness.
I’m a hopeless romantic. I’ll always be, and I don’t know, I’m so picky with men. Maybe that’s why I’ve never truly been in love.
I’m just in love with love.
only getting the ‘good’ blueberry boypancakes when he made me breakfast in bed, especially because i hate all pancakes but his… being snuck up on while you do dishes, spun around, and kissed so perfectly that your knees actually buckle and he has to hold you up… tickle-fights because you’re the only person who knows the right spots… laughing until you cry, and crying until you laugh… flights that feel longer than the months you’ve been apart… being adorable and messy in bed together in the morning… lazy days spent reading out loud to each other, playing video games, and taking turns making the pots of tea… walking dozens of blocks in 7” platform boots with blisters but not caring about anything but his hand in yours and the amazing night of music and dancing you’re going home from… finding fun naughty ways to pass the time on 9 hour car trips… swapping coy looks across a party and suddenly both being too tired to ‘stay awake’ any longer… hehehe clothes shopping and playing fashion models… ridiculous nonsensical nicknames that absolutely make sense to you alone… all the love in the world… knowing exactly what you’ve lost…
A memory of love & infatuation that I will always remember;
Being talked into biking to the local nature reserve by the lake, him with a six pack of Pabst in his backpack, me with not a care in the world.
Me not being able to talk him into wading into the water, him saying he’ll teach me how to skip stones instead.
Standing behind me, one hand holding my throwing arm, the other on my waist. Bodies moving in perfect synch and launching the pebble skipping gleefully over the glassy lake.
Moving up the waterfront cliff to collapse on our backs into the fresh grass, watching the sky move around us. Everything moving around the axis of us. The world moving for us.
He cracks open a can, hands it over with a smile. His smile.
Time is stalled, and I’m content.
I miss this person so much, but am too scared to get back in touch. So I’m left with this amazing memories, and sometimes that’s enough. Enough to remind me of that feeling, and that I will feel it again.
:)
It’s leaning over to me at the abortion clinic and asking, “Does this count as our second date?” Or it’s joking that in yr other that you’re the “redeemable” femme one and she’s the “dies at the end of the movie” butch one. It’s realizing how simple it is to love two people at once.
it’s holding hands(palms touching),sharing secrets without speaking, meaningful glances and beautiful expressions,wearing my boy’s saggy jeans and having to constantly hike them up(it still doesn’t stop me from wearing them..soo comfy!), it’s his hand resting on my heart feeling the erratic beats, him strumming out a few awkward chords on his guitar and singing a few lines that he wrote just for me, it’s running in the rain together and not caring about anything but each other, it’s lying in bed all day under the sheets and telling each other everything and anything, it’s glow-in-the-dark stars on my ceiling, it’s his hand twining in my hair as he kisses me, it’s my own personal Secret Agent Lover Man/Angel Juan/dream come true, it’s midnight picnics & peanut butter sandwiches,it’s skipping and hop-scotch, building forts and climbing trees, it’s the way he tells me I’m so skinny when he hugs me,it’s tangled hair and boxer shorts,it’s long,curly eyelashes,crooked smiles, it’s me being the wendy to his peter pan,it’s piggy-back rides & the way his fingers delicately trace over my ribs as if I’m easily breakable, it’s the way he holds me when i cry, it’s how he guides my fingers over the piano keys, it’s homemade dinners,and lying on picnic tables at 3 in the morning, its when he kisses the corner of my mouth, it’s when he calls me his little pixie, it’s when he said i was magic, his own personal good-luck charm, it’s how patient he was while waiting for me to pull down my high walls and finally let him in, it’s the way he seemed so sure about us when i wasn’t & never giving up, it’s the vow we made to each other to never grow up.
It’s the way we look into each other’s eyes and just know.
Love is falling for a married man and developing a wonderful friendship based on laughter and secret notes and bicycle riding at dawn and electrifying brushes of skin and wishing and longing.
Love is choosing to not to sleep with him, partly out of fear that it would cause too much pain and partly out of love for myself and my own sanity.
Love is reviving the friendship 15 years later from opposite ends of the world – him happily married to the same woman, and me to a wonderful man who loves me passionately.
Love is still feeling that chemistry but knowing that we made the right choice.
Love is knowing that he can see inside my soul even from another country.
Love is waiting for another lifetime.
It’s swaying to love songs while washing up, getting kicked out of a fabric store for being ‘vulgar’, getting told off in an emergency department for laughing – as opposed to crying, it’s him giving you the shirt off his back to walk home because it’s cold and we just spent all our taxi money on cheesey chips, it’s recognising their cough in a crowded room, it’s singing ridiculous songs to each other, it’s crazy plans, it’s everyday.
Love,
Reading back on all our emails and realizing that I was in fact truly and deeply in love. But was just too young to notice it then. And looking back with bitter sweet memories and longing to talk to him again. Remembering our pet names for each other and how we grew so passionate and then it just died and life went on because that is what life does.
Creating happy memories with a new love. The fights we had and how he was scared of losing me and I of losing him. Talking things out when one of us is angry or just needs to let it all out. Being the one to comfort and then in turn getting comforted as well. Planning all the things to do when he visits. Sharing music back and forth. Finally getting to hear his voice again! Just hearing those three words from his lips. Writing love poems to him. And getting written one every once in a while. Seeing him missing those who he loves. Growing and learning together. Having him get all protective over me and for good reason to. Him being interested in my life and who is in it. Asking questions about him and his past and yet never seeming to unveil the mystery about him. Caring for each others health and supporting each others dreams.
Infatuation,
Driving around in his car and just talking about any thing and every thing. Telling him my secrets and regrets. Listening to him talk about his points of view and his life. Eating lunch together on the beach and watching people go by. Being completely comfortable with him and him being the same with me. Watching movies together and then talking about it after wards and laughing. Him telling me where the best places to go are. Showing me the most picture perfect places to go. Him telling me a secret or two. Laughing and joking together and being able to “read” each other and the other persons thoughts. Him walking me back to my door even though we are not dating. Wanting to tell him how I feel but not being able to.
Romance,
The littlest things. Like when he plays with your hair. Or she teaches you how to kiss. Taking your hand and kissing it. Rubbing your noses together and giving butterfly kisses. Him touching your face to remember all the details and not caring about those little bumps. Watching the sunset and snuggling up together against the cold. Sitting by the fire as he snuggles up against you and caresses your body. Giving back rubs with fragrant oils. Him insisting that you go to bed and you refusing to because you want to talk with them a little longer or visa versa. Him letting you put eyeliner on him. Him attempting to dress you. Laying in the back yard just looking up at the stars with her on an old mattress and under a bunch of blankets. Her licking your face when you don’t expect it. Her coming up with nicknames for you.
Deliciousness,
Trying new foods together. Making him or her breakfast in bed. Having cake smeared on your face and then licked off by her. The way she taste. The way he taste. The way they smell and how it is all their own. Trading pillows so that you feel like you are sleeping right next to them when you are not. Trading candy through a kiss and then stealing it back in another kiss. Him having hot coffee or chocolate and you having something cold and icy and then kissing and seeing if you two create steam. Cooking their favorite meal when they have had a bad day.
(this is so cute that i had to join in!)
it’s boys who are dashingly well dressed and who like miyazaki films. rocker boys who wear huge glasses. it’s getting giddy every time your phone chimes with a message from him. it’s the perfect way he uses parenthetical asides. it’s conversations about robots that make him sound so intelligent that your glasses fog over with lust. it’s wearing each others’ glasses until you get dizzy. it’s setting your glasses innocently side by side on a coffee table, and then warming up under a blanket, innocently side by side. it’s the best smell in the world, very clean and soapy. it’s when he tells you he’s been looking for the matching amy doll for his sonic the hedge hog plush, for years. it’s the 9 aching hours of watching movies before he finally has the courage to kiss you. it’s perfect and awkward first kisses.
it’s sitting on the couch reading while he cooks and sings at the same time. it’s a brand new teapot with two teacups and a tea tray that he bought for our tea-parties every friday night. it’s his friends asking “is that robot-scientist girl?” it’s being mock-restrained from behind when you say you need to go. it’s always being walked to the train station with a gentlemanly goodbye bow. it’s quick kisses in the street in public (which is taboo in japan!) being kissed on the hand. kissing when you both have morning breath but not caring at all. kisses that taste like honey from making and eating too many honey lollipops. it’s making out to django reinhardt. it’s playing with each others’ hair, and lovely deep massages, and falling asleep holding hands. it’s buying matching cookie-scented bodywash. it’s the best thing. it’s the way your chest feels empty when he stops calling and you don’t know why. it’s setting your heart back in place but still dreaming about him every night.
wow. totally had an inspiration fit from this post. mine is far too long to post here, so this is the link: LJ (LJ friend requests welcome!)
excerpt for those reading this far down:
It started quietly, secretly. It snuck up on you one night, seeing his face for the first time in about a fortnight. You like that it was that long exactly, because you can think ‘what a fortnight it’s been’, and pretend you’re sophisticated and mysterious.
The elevator doors open and he steps out almost instantaneously, his movements fluid and his voice warm, and he’s talking about something boyish and ridiculous, fantasy football or something equally irrelevant, and all you can think is how much you’ve missed his eyes, how he towers over you, the way he puts his hands on that particular spot on your lower back when you basically leap into his arms.
And then you’re bright red because that was a little exuberant for someone who is just your friend, of course, you just get along really well, you never even thought of him in that way, what are you talking about? Your previous denials sound overly cheery and laughably transparent, and you back away from him quickly, and his smile is bright and you can feel it throbbing in your fingertips, fluttering in your stomach, and it’s making your knees buckle a little.
It is still loving the most beautiful man I have ever met although he broke my heart when he left without explaining why.
It is getting a surge of joy and amazement through my body when memories of the sweet things he did for me pops into my mind.
It is hoping that he will beat his dark side and let the wonderful him live his life even if I may never see him again.
this is the email i sent to my one true love, about a year ago:
i think the majority of what i was trying to convey in our conversation earlier is that no matter how bad the bad is, the good is still enough to counteract it. i missed you so much during the month that we didn’t talk, i honestly dont think i could do that again. you mean too much to me in so many ways that i’ll take you however i can get you. it sucks real bad to think that what we have right now is the best that it’ll ever be, but what can ya do.
you really are like the epitome of everything i’ve ever wanted. i adore everything about you, but since that’s too vague, why dont i make you a list of specifics?
1. you’re so fun to be around
2. how well our personalities play off of eachother
3. how i can be entirely entertained for hours on end just sitting and talking to you
4. you’re a big nerd
5. more specifically, how you go to planet on your break every wednesday because its shipment day
6. you’re way smarter than me
7. you understand all my dumb references
8. you’re just as random as i am
9. your style
10. the way you judge people for the same asshole reasons i do hahahaha
11. the way your eyes seem to get a lot more blue when we’re having a sweet moment
12. you gave me the bestest sheets ever ever ever i love them almost as much as i love you
13. the HHOMPH face!!!!!!
14. the way you just did it to make sure i spelled it right
15. how incredibly charming you are. its sickening really
16. how you let me borrow lost so we can nerd out about it … ill give it back eventually, i swear haha
17. how one text or one myspace message from you can make my entire day
18. um hello we have matching piercings
19. how attached to your neice you are. seriously it makes my heart happy the way you talk about her
20. that feeling that i get when i’m looking at you, and you aren’t even paying me any attention, and i can’t take my eyes off of you because you’re gorgeous, and amazing, and perfect in every way that i could ever even imagine. the feeling that nothing else will ever matter to me as much as your happiness does. the feeling that i get when i’m laying in bed at night, thinking about what i’ll wear the next day in hopes that you’ll compliment me on it. the feeling that i get when you touch me, or kiss me, or even looking at me in that COPYRIGHT OF RYAN way you do… when i know, when i can literally, physically feel that i am so in love with you. being around you makes it hard to breathe, you make it hard to concentrate on anything else but simply holding your attention for as long as i possibly can. the way that i can feel my heart about to burst from having to contain everything that i feel for you. you make me feel things that are so foreign to me, and i love it. i will take it over anything for as long as it’s an option. i love you so deep and so much, that if you never believe anything that anyone says for the rest of forever, just know that nothing about that will ever change, no matter the circumstances…
AWWWWWWWWWWWWWWHHHHHHHHHHHHH
i am in a position of trying to detach from someone who is bad for me and in an odd relationship limbo with another person who lives far away from me, so i will refrain from torturing myself here.
but i was listening to this song as i read some of these, and decided to make it my contribution: www.youtube.com/watch?v=IZdGaH…
before i can begin to the poster above (your list made me go naw) i seriously went :O when you said ryan since my boyfriend is called ryan, i dont know i guess in my own world there is no one else called ryan :)
anyway…
when you feel like they don’t care as much as you care about them and you argue and then he looks at you incredulously and says “how could you think for one second that i don’t put you first, i love you more than you’ll believe”, thumb wars underneath cafe tables, them reading stories and poetry you’ve written, the smell of their shampoo :) dressing up in each others clothes, mix cds being made for you, going to the cinemas to watch your favourite girly flicks, falling asleep on opposite sides of the bed and waking up curled up together, feeling them laugh when you kiss, the electric in the air when they’ve hurt you and they’re telling you how much they’re sorry, the way he talks in analogies, similies and other various language techniques that make him sound like he sits late at nights and read french literature, the way his fingers are always covered in paint, and when he writes messages on my back in permanent marker just so i cant wash it for days :)
My sweetest moments:
Everytime someone asks how we met, everytime someone asks how he proposed, everytime we kiss.
The sweetness doesn’t end.
My teeth hurt…
Oh my goodness where to start!
Romance to me is getting those “just because/just thinking of you” gifts out of nowhere. they’re never wrapped because they’re so spur of the moment.
infatuation; When you never now what to say to that certain someone you just keep smiling and laughing and turning all rosy and hot. Then when they are close to you and not even really close you get butterflies. and they smell amazing and you just sigh and smile.
sigh i love love.
Whenever we walk side by side or sit by each other while letting the silence seep in, this invisible string is drawn between us, tied right at the space between the sternum and where the belly begins. They call that area the ‘diaphragm’, the center where hiccups flare up. I barely know you but when the string is drawn I know that you know that I know that we both are aware of its presence, and then we start to teeter a little awkwardly, as if we are both magnetized to each other but we don’t want to admit it so we’re thrown a little off balance in trying to break the string. One time when you and I were both a little drunk we decided to let the string draw our magnets together and then we found ourselves measuring the size of each others’ hands, palm to palm. Before this moment, I was sitting alone outside of my own birthday party and you came to join me where I sat on a ledge. It’s been too long since we’ve become secretly aware of the string without actually verbalising its existence, so I’ve learned to ignore it. But sometimes I wonder if you think it’s still there.
I’ve never had a romance of any kind. Really. I’m 16 and although the people around me seem miles ahead in that department I still believe myself for a moment when I say, “I’m so young! Why stress?”
Of course, I’m desperate for some kind of boy attention, but it just ain’t happening, I tell ya. So you know what I do? I fall in love with strangers.
Seriously, it’s quite fun. It’s often someone I see on public transport! I’m very observant, which really comes in handy. Here’s my little snipit o’ love for the day:
+ The boy who served me coffee with the most beautiful face and figure I have ever known being mind-blowingly sweet and cupping my hand so gently when giving me my change. (Yes, this sounds obsesive, but what’s a girl to do?)
* sigh *
My love will show his face one day & I’ll show him the world & he’ll show me the world & we’ll never ever stop smiling & never stop kissing & we will run through the city & the forests together forever & never stop dreaming.
All these Stories are so sweet, This was a great idea Gala!!
For me romance is;
-Meeting my partner online…two years ago & still being together
-staying up until 3am talking
-random crazy photo shoots because we can
-discussing marraige & children & knowing one day soon it will happen,
-lauging till we cry & snot runs from our noses (not very pretty but it makes us laugh harder till our sides ache!)
-random love presents & letters
-tracing our names in sand
-walking hand in hand
-kissing in the rain
...sadly my partner and i do not live with each other,
We have been together 2 years & Both still live with parents (Cheap rent so we could save) But i am glad to say, that just recently we have purchased our first house together & are moving in together in ONE month!
I’m excited as you can imagine, and am just dreaming of ways to suprise him as he comes home from work, such as sprinkling rose petals around & cooking him dinner & leaving love notes for him to find.
In my house of love; everyday will be valentines day!
For me, it’s definitely the non visual things that you can but not see. As such – the electricity and friction between the air separate the two person in question. It’s being there in hearing/walking/visual distance to eachother but with NO physical contact and your heart still beating a million times a second.
And ultimately, belief that it is likewise for him as well.
It’s reuniting with my #1 teenage crush 14 years later and having him grab me and kiss me outside the restaurant we went to. It’s falling madly in love with him despite an ocean between us. It’s loving him unconditionally even though he can’t handle the distance. I hope one day it works.
It’s about wild hope and anticipation of the first time you hold hands, kiss, pull the covers over our heads in bed. I truly think these moments are worth living for. Just to find someone to tell you secrets, ask you questions, and having the way they look at you mirror the way you feel about them.
For me it is
Baking Cupcakes on a rainy afternoon dancing around the kitchen. Him driving out to my house in the middle of the night just cause he wanted to see me. Him teaching me to drive. Notes underneath my pillow. The study notes he wrote my for my hsc cause he believed in me. Staying in bed all day making love. Picking him up from work just so we could ride the train home forever. Leaving for work and finding him outside my house waiting to drive me with a packed lunch. The beautiful lighter he bought me for my 19th birthday. Sitting in the bath for hours telling stories and getting wrinkly. Drawing on the sidewalk with chalk. Making smoothies. Filling his letterbox with his favourite chocolates. The endless emails and phonecalls when he went away for two weeks and the way it felt like an eternity.
sadly it ended.
But i won’t give up on love.
Love is…
whispering sweet nothings in the middle of the night when most of your world sleeps | poking fun at one another because you /know/ it’s not true anyway | sitting pretty when someone snaps your photo | eating raspberry cheesecake | forgetting to bring lunch and having a friend wait in line to buy you warm mince pie | pulling someone up to dance in the middle of the field | missing a whole day of classes but being reminded what needs to be done | compliments at any time for any reason…
Love is that fuzzy feeling that rises from deep within to escape as life in the form of a fantastic smile.
Love is iCiNG!
When he texts Anne Sexton’s poem ‘Knee Song’ to you…
When he (completely accidentally) jizzes in your ear and you’re still laughing about it months later…
(I’m sorry, it’s two ends of a glorious extreme)
It’s promising yourself you will not kiss him.
It’s him holding you in the dark and asking “Can I kiss you?”
It’s losing your will power and kissing him anyway.
It’s your heart knowing before your head does. Standing in the rain, talking about nothing in particular, but loving the words anyway. It’s the deep silences that say more than words. It’s the intense gaze, & shy revelation of feeling. It’s dogs that return to the wrong owner, when it’s time to leave! It’s the heart pounding, stomach churning anticipation of seeing him.
the excitment of a new romance.
liking someone more than you have before, making silly faces at each other and bickering about silly things.
its feeling comfort in their arms and sitting and talking outside in the cold.
its a smile.
It’s KFC picnic’s on the floor of your bedroom on a picnic rug on Christmas Eve while watching Victoria Secret Fashion Show on TV…
and now making it your tradition for every year.
I suppose love was the first maths class. Where I met him and he met me. I suppose it was that first awkwardness where everyone knew I was his and yet I wasn’t. It was years of not being together and no other boy being aloud near me- if they did they never really had my heart- it was blantently obvious and yet ridiculously complicated… It was stupid and took up to many hours of my thoughts. It was a huge explosion of tears when I realised I was good enough for him- but he was no where near good enough for me.
Letting go of love is hard… I suppose not loving at all would of been much harder.
fighting about ex lovers with a new man then taking a midnight walk together to clear the air and gazing at the stars as he teaches you which one is what and points out venus sparkling high. walking to the soccer fields near by and dancing and catching each other giggling incessently and howling at the moon then slowly items of clothing fall by the wayside piece by piece until finally you are rolling on the cool grass naked passionately kissing at eachothers bodies and making love under the moonlight while constantly peering to double check no one is going to catch you…looking to the side after and seeing the clothes strewn across in a pattern leading to where you now lay in each others arms, deciding this might just be the most random thing you have ever done and slowly dressing while shy glances are made…you walk back to the house at about 2am almost in silence holding hands…at peace now. the fight is over and you are in the first stages of love…
Running into each other once a week (on a wednesday) when you catch the same bus. And eventually striking up conversation as you wait. One week he’s sharing his chocolate with you, the next you’re sharing your pizza with him. Both a little tipsy. Would never have normally spoken to a stranger at night.
3 months later he invites you round.
3 days later you kiss
6 weeks later (Christmas Eve) he says ‘I love you’
4 years later you just bought a hamster together :P
It’s receiving hand written letters, where you can tell they’ve been writing and re-writing things to make it sound perfect.
It’s sitting on a pier watching the sun go down.
It’s getting random emails/voice messages/texts saying that they love you.
It’s lying down on a picnic blanket, not doing anything, just being together.
I think it’s:
Arms around your waist when you didn’t expect them, kisses on your back, falling asleep in the grass watching the ocean, play fighting in the pool, chinese food and arthouse films on friday nights, sharing a bed with your best friend who snores, who kicks, who takes all the blanket, and lies in a starfish shape on the bed so you have no space. It’s a book of poetry by E. E. Cummings you didn’t expect, it is every poem by E. E. Cummings, it’s forearms, flirting with strangers on the tram, boys with french accents, mix tapes, and Bloc Party playing over and over again.
the most perfect moment of my life:
Laying in a beanbag with my ex-boyfriend in his very christian household, in the loungeroom with all his siblings fast asleep, all the lights off with kings of leon playing low on mtv and the tv light glaring while I stuck my worried head in his nook and he kissed my forhead until I fell asleep.
Every problem I felt went away all at once
My life: [please insert love story here].
It’s that feeling I get when I see my next Romeo – I fall in “love” every couple of weeks and each time it’s for someone who’s brilliant at what they do and I spend the next few days reading and watching everything I can about them!
It’s that bubbly feeling in my chest and it’s that desire to make some sort of noise when I see/hear them. It’s having my friends call me Mrs Vixxie [Their surname] and signing all my school work as that. It’s deep sighs and wasted evenings. It’s remembering all the other people I’ve fallen in “love” with and remember why. It’s spending 80% of my time talking about them and 20% waiting for other people to mention them so I can talk about them some more! (Mean Girls anyone?) It’s a deep admiration and it’s giggling myself to sleep. It’s blushing when people mention my love and it’s dreaming about us somehow being together.
Yup. That does it!
It’s also reading other peoples love stories. Sweetness!
it is being so utterly opposite and different but still knowing what the other is thinking. it’s arguments about italian food. it’s holding him while he cries because he has never felt beautiful but i’m nearly there, i’m trying so hard. it’s carefully rationing my groceries so i don’t run out, and him visiting and eating everything. and apologising.
it’s getting turned on in art galleries and trying not to paw at eachother while i make notes. it’s writing love letters on eachothers palms with sticky fingers. curling his my toes into his at night. lying in bed eating fruit while he picks out a shirt and tie. tracing his curves with white wine while we look at the stars.
it’s kissing until we fall asleep and waking up with our lips still pressed together.
Knowing that you’re still loved by him even when you’re miles apart. Knowing that he gets a little jealous when you talk or dance with other boys. The brilliant moments when you meet up again and go swing dancing, and he teaches you to walk on stilts. Feeling so close to him that it makes the moments you’re apart just bearable.
For me, it’s always the writers who get under my skin. It’s the girl who hand-wrote poems with a calligraphy pen, and engraved Latin words on a silver ring which I never take off. It’s the pain of love unrequited, of sleeping curled in a borrowed jacket that smelt achingly of her. It’s being told that my scars are beautiful too. It’s the way he makes up pet names for me that are as ridiculous as they are sweet. It’s the way I feel like I am my best when I’m with you.
xxx
It’s talking to a complete stranger for eight hours on MSN and telling him your life story, and six months later still being able to talk for the same length of time and have it feel like five minutes. It’s being made to feel beautiful. It’s kissing in the sunshine and kissing in the snow, and having sexual exploits in weird and wonderful places because we can’t have them at home. It’s clinging together at the bus or train station and sobbing once you’re alone, because you won’t see him for another month. It’s watching him laugh at you as you’re completely amazed by a stationary shop, teaching him to do an “elephant voice”, being stupid and teasing each other and pouting and making up. It’s feeling safe and protected. It’s sharing your lives every day, even though you’re far apart. It’s 12 hour train journeys. It’s cuddling playlists and love letters on your birthday.
It’s having a first love that you pray with all your heart will also be your last.
hugging with his jacket around you while he is still wearing it, kissing in the rain, looking at the way the sunlight reflects off his hair.
leaning on him on our first date, having hot milo.
laughing together
having a baby together
him looking after said baby so i can have a bubblebath and then holding the sleeping baby together, looking to each other and babay and knowing the world is good and right and perfect that we added half of ourselves together to make this new being from our love.
having him do the dishes everyday without complaint. trying new foods together, back massages. him stopping sex because you are uncomfortable. caressing your face, tugging your hair with passion when kissing. watching girlie flicks and laughing at the cheesiness. Reading good books and discussing the book we will ‘eventually’ co-write.
playing computer games, board games, being ruthless in risk and giggling like crazy when we wish we really did own a home let alone a hotel.
discpling our children in a loving way. writing in our gratitude journal everyday, doing a handpile as a family, holding hands with a toddler
working in a factory parttime so we can pay for food.
teaching him to dance, when he sucks at it. listening to his crap rapping when he is white. and i mean White!!!
sharing a bed, a shower, a tshirt, learning and growing together.
There is many stories, with my exess or just ramdom guys that I´ve dated or just met during my life. But still the most beautiful thing ever was my new boyfriend and moment with him, in last saturday during a valentines day date. ^^ He is very independent person, really don´t give a damn about being a couple, not before I arrived… I asked him why, if he thinks that he really can´t imagine himself to be in a real deep relationship, he wanted to start date with me, for real. “You are the most perfect and facinating personality I´ve ever met.” Everyday with him is pure joy.
Love is the word that I use because it’s too difficult to explain him any other way.
Love is exhausted days cause you stayed up far too late talking. Homemade valentines and mix CDs. Suddenly understanding. Its long glorious walks back from nights out with people you love unconditionally. And communicating with no need for words. Hugs. Snuggley hugs. Running over the top hugs. The right hug at just the right second when you are on the verge of freaking out. It is the one guy who you loved more than anything else but it was too many kinds of crazy messed up beautiful. But still the day you realised that he would always understand exactly what you meant. No matter what. Getting called sweetheart. Pancakes and coffee. Red wine and ridiculous conversation. It is food cooked with love. Awkward goodbyes where the feelings you are trying to somehow negotiate far out reach what they ‘should be’ the enormity of it all. When words don’t seem to cover it and your eyes are saying something entirely different. Dancing like a maniac. Giggling like one too. Snow falling. It is just wanting to be able to help. Realising how many people you love and how much. Smiles and support and knowing you will be there for them no matter what. Unexpected letters and parcels. And messages in books. And dancing some more. It is just being together. Mutual adoration and vodka shots. Dorky conversations in the hall at 4am. Sunshine and adventures. Life.
It’s everything not only reminding you of him, but making you laugh out loud. Even though you’re not sure what’s being done with your love. It’s hearing your fresh laughing, and this sounds so lovely.
The other guy who’s perfect and wasted your time. The example. not him.
The one who cherishes your time with being in it. The one I used to talk to for hours and hours just because. we didn’t even make any sense. The father, brother, man, boy, best friend, lover, conscience, life i never had. Never. A Best Friend who kissed me at paddington finally, loved me, became away. And that was really that.
The fact that I can’t lose him. No matter how less often we talk. How I know no matter who he meets, what he learns or fucks…I’ll be the one, because underneath it’s the way it has always been.
Coming back to Montreal, starting to cry and laugh at the same time half an hour before the plane lands, knowing that I’ll finally be in his arms for the first time in five weeks. Running to him at the airport hugging him like crazy and him doesn’t even knowing what hit him :D
Typing that made me cry. That was such a beautiful moment…
Having a girl I love (but she doesn’t know) tell me how much she admires me, telling her and having her be thrilled about it, spending a day in NYC with her, frolicking around Central Park, sandwich shops and Betsey Johnson stores.
My at-the-time boyfriend telling me a beautiful poem in an Scottish accent, sending me a candy and an adorable book when I’m far away. lying in the sun in my backyard telling each other folk tales, spending the day with him before we were dating, seeing the Taming of the Shrew with our class and going out to lunch. Ohhh, sweetness!
Standing on his feet, like I used to on my dad’s when I was little, and dancing in his kitchen. Drinking a whole bottle of Tanqueray and a whole bottle of Noilly Prat together, him eating all the olives, both with tears in our eyes as we tell each other that we’ve both cheated. Making fun of him cause he doesn’t even last five minutes in the sauna. Analyzing Weezer-lyrics. A walk through the whole city with my dog at 2 AM, returning home and eating expensive ice cream in bed. His yellow eyes. “True Rulers” by Common Rider. Never a corny love song. Him sitting behind me and playing air drums with my hands along to “Less than you hoped for” by Gunmoll. Fucking up against a wall, so angry that we both start to cry because we pull eachother’s hair so hard. Never getting up for breakfast. Red roses. Me writing endless love stories. Everything always ending in tears.
And then the bearded boy who kissed my forehead everytime I broke down crying at work. Who called me doll. Who was my boss and became my best friend, one to spend nights with sitting at a bar we both used to wipe in the early morning hours, drinking beer, vodka and tequila and sometimes not speaking for an hour. Who carried me to the toilet so I could vomit. All the love in my life is Rock’n‘Roll and destructive, noisy, dirty, more painful than anything, worth more than that. I never really had romance without filth. Never had something that was “just right”, it was always “wrong, so wrong, but I don’t care”. We never thought about the consequences, we willingly broke our hearts. The very essence is sitting on the floor of a Punkrock-Bar with my editor and her quoting DEus, “Don’t be precious, don’t be proud.
The past means nothing when you’re down.
Living hard for a while will hurt your bones, but not your style.” and our knees were aching and we couldn’t even feel our hearts anymore.
LOVE is that single pure moment when you look at someone in the eye and say “I love you” with conviction. It’s when a day feels so right and everything is so perfect that you can truly call it divine. It’s when somebody reaches out, touches you or smiles at you and you feel like all of your emotions are swirling inside like a merry-go-round-gone-mad because you’re so happy. or when your story goes up in a relatively semi-famous site and people email you telling you how much they like it or they want to be friends or they love the characters. love is when you see your name on the newspaper and your parents become proud of you coz you finally showed them that your scribbling was worth something. and love is when you lie down under the starry summer sky with a lover you’ve known for a long time to talk about fate, destiny and true love before sharing your first kiss with him… it’s love just knowing that you’re not even alone. you’re a piece, a strand, a fiber in the wildly tangled but incredibly beautiful tapestry called life… love is learning to cherish the time you’re alive… :D
Oh my, these are beautiful. I didn’t know love like that existed in real life.
Oh, it’s things like finishing a saying about duct tape for him, then he suddenly bursts out with “I love you!” Stalking him in Halo multiple times, only for him to say that he still loves you. Offering his arm when it’s dark outside, so you don’t get separated. Being overall the sweetest guy you could possibly meet.
* sigh *
That boy is amazing.
Love came to me in fleeting scenes, like a bad flashback in a black and white MTV. It is in a blue and white uniform, the sheer look of delight of eating a Paddle Pop ice-cream. It is me, falling in love with the uniformed boy at this sight.
It is five hour long telephone calls, talking about every memory we may have until we become each other’s combined childhood.
It is first kisses, first I love yous, first time meeting the parents, first time being caught making out, first time everything.
But love is also the first heartbreak, the second heartbreak, the third heartbreak, the fourth heartbreak, fast forward ‘til today and the heart is still broken.
Love is when you forgive again and again, and nothing changes.
And finally, love is when you realise that nothing will ever change except yourself, and you leave because you want to stop loving him and start loving yourself instead.
Me getting back late after babysitting last night, and finding him half asleep in bed. Said a quick hello, and in his sleepy voice told me to hurry to bed because he can’t sleep properly without me there.
Love started on an endless summer. He was the older boy, I was just finishing school. We spent an entire summer wrapped up in each other, then he broke my heart in the fall. I was never the same again. He taught me that suffering is what makes the heart stronger. He floats in and out of my life from time to time, and we reminisce. It’s incredibly bittersweet.
Love then began with smooth talkers, homeless actors and currently, love resides in the heart of a massive computer geek. But I adore him. It’s knowing that no matter what happens, he will always be there for me. It’s the way he remembers everything about me. It’s how he’s funny and charming, and puts his hand on my knee during sad movies. It’s the two of us, running down the street on an endless star spangled night, and him turning to me and saying: “You’ll remember this night for the rest of your life!”.
It has its problems, and its not perfect, but it works and it makes me feel so alive and that’s all I really need right now. He makes me so happy :) x.
I haven’t told my boy I love him because we’ve only known each other for two months, but I have been in love with him since the first night we met. He is my entire world and the fact that we have only scratched the surface so far, and that there’s so much more to discover just fills me with excitement.
I knew it was true love when he didnt blink an eye when I started planning on getting more tattoos. My ex hated them and made nasty comments all the time on the ones I DO HAVE.
I know its love because he puts up with my quirkiness and maybe even finds it adorable.
Lying and watching my boyfriend drawing & long drives in the sunset listening to Queen while singing along.
Writing letters with tears in my eyes, getting my boyfriend to come over and bake a cake with me & fighting over the remote-control because I wanted to see my daily episode of Friends.
My first kiss & remembering totally irrelevant stuff about ex-boyfriends like their favourite colour.
Writing a depressed text-message and getting the answer “hell no, I love you!”
Walking hand in hand, drunk through the city of my highschool. Talking on the phone untill sunrise and being able to kiss and make up after a long, stupid argument. Playing StarCraft & running together although we were both in terrible shape.
Spending oceans of time on trains and busses and freezing my ass off on cold stations to see my boyfriend. Being carried all the way through the house by him. Crying together to Coldplay’s “In my place”.
Mornings with hangovers watching “pokémon” and drinking cola. Romantic dinner-dates.
Lying in bed and sing Kashmir’s “Lampshade”. Getting dressed in the morning while he is playing bass.
Having a bit of a bad day and just go around in his big sweatshirt which still has the wonderful scent of him.
Writing all this and smiling, well-knowing that love has been good to me (listening to Kashmir and Johnny Cash)
Being sent infatuated emails of Ginsbergian poetry by my first kiss, a sweet boy named Derek.
Alexis leading me by the hand through the community garden at our school, deep in moonlight, picking me raspberries and feeding them to me.
Any and all of my wonderful friends.
A slow dance on the back porch with all the lights dimmed.
Dropping down to their knees, telling you they’d do anything for you.
Surprising you with flowers after a bad day.
Covering you with kisses and tickling you until you’re happy again.
Being kissed at midnight on New Year’s with so much ferocious love, you stagger backwards.
Making him laugh so hard he wheezes, with him just managing to say, “G-d, I love you.”
Infatuation. Crushes. Loving from a distance. Too nervous to talk. Laughing too loudly at the jokes he makes. Ears perk as someone else mentions his name. Seeing him from across a room and losing track of the conversation you were having. Dreams of love notes and watching movies in the dark. Someone at a party wears the same cologne-and you search for him endlessly. See him at a party- and run in the opposite direction. Remember all the dumb conversations about classes, the weather. Catch him staring at you and then realize he is really looking past you at the prettiest girl in school. Building him up. Thinking he is perfect. Thinking he is sweet. Learning he is a jerk. Meeting the ex-girlfriends and the ex-lovers. Meeting the others in line to be future lovers. Realizing I never really wanted him but that loved having a crush on him.
Love for me is knowing that you’re capable of feeling it; of knowing that, whether your feelings are reciprocated or not, your heart is functional. Capable of letting someone in, and capable of letting them go, and capable of doing it all over again.
Love is…
making a list of adventures to experience together, writing songs together, taking long walks, planning a Star Wars wedding while riding our bikes in an unknown area, naps when it’s cold outside, sending me youtube videos of Beatles songs, making gifts instead of buying them, supporting eachother in what we want to do, when one of us gets scared that we won’t see eachother as much the other promises we will, playing Wii together for hours, babysitting nieces/nephews, when he still comes back to high school theatre rehersal just to be with me and help out, him laughing when I rub my nose against his ear, tickle fights, pillow fights, drawing scenes on trees, putting kind notes in books at the library, running around in circles until we fall over, laughing at nothing, long conversations, having the same celebrity crush, and getting inspiration from one another.
My boyfriend and I met my freshman year in high school and never really talked to eachother much. Over the years, we hung around the same people and he kept coming back to theatre to help out. Last may, we got to know each other really well and he asked me out at a school rock concert. We always look back and laugh because it’s so weird to think of the person you barely talked to four years ago is the love of your life and you are thiers! I seriously never thought I would even speak to him after he graduated. Now I see him so much, our friends ask if we ever get sick of eachother. Of course our answer is always no!
He sets my phone alarm to go off at random times with the message “I love you.” and lets me call him Bumface.
Meeting up after being apart for 3 years in the airport and experiencing that first kiss first look first hug you’ve been playing over in your head over and over again. Spotting the eye of a cute guy at work and having the confidence to smile at him. The butterfly’s and undeniable smile that comes across your face whenever you see your new crush. Having that great cute guy friend serenade you with his guitar in the dorm laundry room at midnight. Being wrapped up in the guy you like arms and being enveloped in his scent and thinking nothing could be better than that moment. The look of love in their eyes making you feel like the most beautiful and important woman in the world. That feeling when you finally get that kiss and realize you never ever want to stop kissing them. Having that one guy in your life that knows you more than anyone in the world. Flirting and infatuation is what makes the world delicious and finding that one love creating that undeniable romance makes it perfect.
A girl love-goddess i met in high school who had the same name as me, only fancier and spelled differently who reall made my chakras spin! she took me to my first punk show and got me high and on my birthday I confessed my love to her and she kissed me but told me it could never be, and over the years I craved being around her just for that delicious feeling, soul-heroin, and watched her become a fabulous seductress and go on adventures while I just wished I could be her best friend and it never worked out, I still have vivid dreams about her and she is my soulmate best friend…
A boy next door who revolutionized my world, soft kitties, music, meditation, being around family, even people i don’t even know but have heard about or seen on the internet i can fall in love with.
It’s my first kiss on valentines day with a boy who would never take advantage of me. Its my best friend saying the only reason we don’t date is because she loves me too much (I feel the same way) Its sneaking in quick kisses every-time your friend’s back’s are turned. Its not so quick kisses and not caring who’s watching. Its baking heart shaped cookies for my friend and seeing the look on her face. Its being willing to stay up til 5 in the morning even though you have a busy day just because you missed each-other and want to talk and cuddle.
Dudettes, love is ALL of this stuff and more.
Feeling fire on your skin and his hand passes over it in a completely innocent way. His lips upon yours pulling at your soul. The first time he puts his arms around you and the butterflies that attacked you. Remembering down to his shoes, what he was wearing the first time you kissed, the first time you had sex, the first time you looked into his eyes and realized he meant more to you than you ever thought you where capable of, the first time he finally admitted he liked you more than he thought he ever could. Every time we got caught doing something we weren’t suppose to be doing. The escapades that we shared together that where both of our firsts. The kisses of love upon my shoulders, breaking down my control. Being so comfortable around him nothing offends, nothing is unknown. Distracting him from playing video games by just being around him. Believing his every confession of love, as much as he did. His face being the reason you smiled, the reason you breathed, the reason you woke up and got dressed in the morning. When he kissed you and the world got put on pause, his hand caressing your cheek and your knees turning into jelly.
Him leaving you, saying he can’t see you two together anymore, yet him coming back to you every weekend, every evening, yet going home to another girl. Him inviting you over and saying we couldn’t fool around, yet him knowing deep in his heart the fire can’t be controlled. You feeling used, but know the hour of feeling his again was stupidly worth it, the hour of him laying next to you tracing outlines on your skin, tracing the outlines of your lips making you feel so much less colder than you did since he left, made you feel like you had the semblance of a heart once again. Finally realizing after years, that he isn’t the boy you loved once, seeing the monster he’s become who doesn’t mind tearing you apart. Looking upon his face and only feeling sorrow, at the loss of the boy you used to love with every fiber of your body, who now only causes disgust and emptiness.
the tears that build up in my eyes as i type this even after 3 years, at the love i once had, that i know i won’t find again. and having to accept that truth. Realizing that once upon a time you knew how to love purely and now lost the manual.
It’s the warm fuzzy scary feeling that drenches me in and out of it when I pray.
It’s the akward shy boy with the oversized glasses furtively looking over wondering if he should sit next to you.
It’s the kind old woman who smiles and contemplates your ‘lovely head scarf!’
its the feeling of frustrations and anger and love and bitter-sweet sourness welling up on your tongue when you see someone you love do so many foolish things.
its my family.
It’s still feeling that same passion 5 years later, I-Hop at 2am, calling each other sillier pet names everyday, and going to the aquarium. It’s talking on the phone all night even when we’ve been together all day. It’s that trip to the beach with her dad, every time she dyes my hair, baking cupcakes, and the bizarre weekend in the mountains. It’s anime conventions, watching dumb reality television together, going to the mall, and her creepy drag queen voice. It’s eating things we have no idea what are from the Asian supermarket, climbing that damn mountain, and watching her squirm when I got tattooed. It’s galas at the zoo, watching movies at home, and not being able to put all of the crazy-amazing moments into words.
hmmmm, I fell out with love a while back and we have yet to make friends again – but here is the love i have known:
Letters – read em and tears prick your eyes type letters.
Passionate kisses that make everyone else disappear.
Late night calls looking up at the same moon.
Little presents, flowers , cards – the things you pretend dont matter but you secretly love it.
honest chats as you share the bath tub.
sunday lie ins and sharing the newspaper.
quoting films you both love randomly during dinner.
getting drunk at the restaurant and tipping far too much because you are just so happy.
brushing my hair when im feeling down. washing my hair when im hungover.
but right now im learning to love myself more instead of leaving it up to someone else to love me.
great blog – great story sharing idea. GaLA – you rock, xx
giving each other cute nicknames, rubbing vicks vapo-rub on the bottoms of my feet when i am sick with a cough (then putting the socks on over it), requiring that i put at least one of my legs up on his chair (under the table) when we’re out at a restaurant, putting his cat’s name or my cat’s name into random song lyrics… a million more
It’s a foreign country it starts at 14 years old, a pressed kiss on a hand a way to say goodbye and I love you at the same time. It’s returning at 16 to find the same loving gaze. This time its bloomed, its become a little older, it wakes in the middle of the night takes us both onto moonlit rooftops to cuddle, kiss and talk, to sit in silence to giggle and then to sneak back down. It’s all secret, its all mysterious it’s shared just by the two of us. It’s sneaking away just to cuddle and kiss until our lips are raw. It flourishes into passion leaving tell tale marks down our necks on our cheeks. It’s smiling non stop. It’s butterflies every time you think of them its a fast paced heart beat every time you see them. It’s rib damaging hugs when you have to leave, it’s impatiently waiting to return to that foreign land, a heart aching separation, it’s a lump in your throat when you think of them, it’s butterflies and nerves at returning, it’s doubting if it ever existed, it’s anticipation to return…it’s june 9th rejoining for matrimony to live together forever…insha Allah
listening to him playing the acoustic guitar while with his marvelous voice sings words of love to me… traumhaft
You never know what the sweetness can truly be like until you’ve had the searingly painful sourness to act as a counterpoint.
It’s that sly peck on the cheek after an argument. Neither wants to admit they were wrong, but neither wants to sit there angry either. So a covert kiss, almost just a brush of the lips against the face, is enough to say “let’s move on”.
When all I have seen for hours are the dark clouds of depression, after crying so hard my eyes have swollen up and I can’t speak any more, just being held and comforted. Being absolved from the spite and venom that was viciously hurled from my lips by the black dog without my consent.
Telling the deepest darkest secrets – the ones that are either unknown to others, or were laughed at brazenly and harshly – and in return, being told “I can totally out-weird that! Listen to this…”
Sweetness is being truly accepted by someone else. For all of your faults and your strengths. Knowing that for anything you do, absolution will eventually be given because you have another’s understanding and love.
Making up stories, words & private jokes with my boyfriend, play fighting, sharing dreams, planning our awesome future.
Waking up to the man I adore more than anything, the way he tightens his grip around my waist when I try to leave bed, morning showers together and blowing smoke into each others mouths. Breakfasts and cupcakes and shoplifting. Its finding a man who makes me smile more than I ever though possible, writing him love letters and having him enjoy reading them.
Its taking pictures of him sleeping, the curve of his naked back under my hand.
i44.tinypic.com/315lama.jpg
Giving an ex-boyfriend a ride home the other day. We hadn’t talked for over a year but he asked me for a ride from an exam and I just couldn’t say no (I still love him) and pass up an opportunity to be in such close proximity for all of twenty minutes.
It was raining and I couldn’t get the passenger door of my ’96 Pathfinder open— he laughed “I knew you’d do this! Mike said I shouldn’t trust you for a ride!” I told him I didn’t have anything against him and he smiled; he said he knows. Our conversation was casual and easy the way it used to be when we were together.
Then when I stopped in front of his house he lingered for just a little too long, and it was the most perfect moment ever. Just me and him, sitting in my car, staring at the other, remembering what it used to be like and acknowledging just how much we missed each other.
I’m only 18 and I don’t think I’ve ever been in love before, but the couple of intense crushes I’ve had have been amazing. It’s not much.
It’s realizing you have exactly the same sense of humour. Laughing too loudly in Burger King about jokes no one else finds funny. Sending and receiving text messages all day, knowing that he will always text back. It’s the walk to the waterfront with the icecream he bought for me and successfully dribbling it down my chin. Dancing to an excellent guitar solo by a busker sitting in an obscure place where surely no one would tip him. It’s sitting on the bench and staring into the water. Realizing the water has a condom and a bunch of litter in it and cracking up. It’s getting on the bus and looking back to find him looking at me, and watch him dance away. It’s the text I got at work one day that broke my heart. And it’s the fact that nothing happened.
It’s the new crush, about a year later. It seems a hopeless cause. Watching Ricky Gervais and laughing uncontrollably. It’s being berated by my best friend for not doing anything about the way I feel for him. It’s both liking banana choc-chip flavoured icecream and karate. It’s being totally geeky about Oblivion and the moment when we found out we both play it. It’s being a spaz and being weird and knowing neither of us really cares. It’s the uncertainty if he likes me or not, and whether he’s too shy to say. It’s the fact that I’m too shy to say.
It’s summertime on the swing sets, him rolling me joints, playing me his favorite songs. It’s long airplane rides where we kiss just enough to bother the other passengers, but couldn’t possibly care. It’s the way he likes to match his tie to my shoes. It’s waking up and he’s already smiling at me. It’s watching him dance to old blues music when we cook jambalaya together, and the way he loves every silly quirk about me that I assume no one even notices (I prefer tiny spoons, I get excited when I see birds in the wild, things like that). It’s him drawing my portrait when I’m not looking, doing crosswords over coffee, talking about philosophy at three in the morning. It’s him spinning me around outside in the winter, spontaneous. The way he puts his arms around my hips at concerts.
I’m kind of dopey and in love, so this could go on for a while, I’ll have to make myself stop. :)
Being picked up at the airport by my man, who had dressed up to look nice for me. Then listening to our favorite songs all the way home, holding hands, just talking about our week apart.
When he pulled up to my townhouse I was really confused (we usually stayed at his place, my roommate at the time was really annoying). Then, he looked over at me with this sweet smile and said, “Your roommate is gone tonight, I thought you might like it if we slept in your bed for your first night back.”
So, we went into my townhouse and when I opened the door to my room there were lit candles and rose petals everywhere! There two dozen roses on my bedside table and a stuff animal of a black and tan dachshund (just like my actual puppy) that said, “I Love You This Much” on the side. It was breath taking. I couldn’t believe it. It was just like something out of the movies or a cheesy romance novel, but it was real and all for me.
Just at the moment that my knees were about to give out from beneath me, he wrapped his arms around me, and whispered in my ear, “I missed you so much.” Then he carried me to my bed and let me take in the moment while he whispered to me how much he loved me.
Even as I reread this…it sounds to fake, but its all true. It was the best night of my life. I love him for showing me how he feels.
aaaaw, if i ever have a shitty day again i know where to come to cheer myself up =)
these are all sooooo original and non-cheesy, simply to die for!
these are all so inspiring and gorgeous ;]
It’s when you realised that the boy in the pastry shop was actually looking at you.
And you can’t wait for him to come on MSN. When the night before you were speaking to each other for 3 hours…
love is community
love is making yourself happy
love is enjoying life and the world with all its nonsense
love is worrying about my brother
love is seeing a musical
love is friendship that will never end
even as we part for college next fall
love is holding on to high school and summer
with friends who have too many memories, too many jokes to count who plan on throwing parties and living in houseboats and supporting eachother no matter what and staying up all night and laughing and laughing and understanding and speaking entire conversations with one look and blowing bubbles and having tea parties and singing and dancing and being up for anything
love is knowing we can make it work next year
love is knowing we wouldn’t have it any other way
love is having a crush on everyone i meet and
still being madly
happily
in love
with you
the boy with the ocean bluest eyes i’ve ever seen who seems to have cured my fear of romance, my Sagittarius spirit that gets bored with relationships so easily, we do silly things and talk about truth and you watch the Goonies with me even though you hate it somehow and awkward confessions of love and you’re a star onstage, smooth and rockin but when you try to pay me a compliment you stutter and laugh and say the wrong thing and we were friends before, when i told you my awkward moments and i wouldn’t even be writing something like this a year ago but i’m glad cause i’m only slightly embarrassed. :]
for me, it’s the boy who was so short and skinny while i was the opposite, the boy who never replied to any of the cliche love letter i wrote him, but kept them all, the boy who played me guitar on the phone, the boy who i laid on while we sat in the middle of the road looking at stars and shivering, the boy who after being broken up with for three months shows up at my glass door at the middle of the night because he loved me, and love like that just reminds me of shame because i turned him away.
but new love is drinking green tea with lots of sugar with my best friend in my room late at night, laughing, writing songs, all to a soundtrack full of the smiths and playradioplay! it’s fantasies featuring dan hunter and matthew gray gubler, it’s holding hands with my best friend, and never feeling alone.
eeeeeep, i don’t think i did this right.
You wake up & remember that the day before the park looked like Super-8 film & that music was better & lights were brighter. The clock says something inaudible, you whisper back, “Shut up, you!” Someone beside you stirs, tosses a lanky, tattooed, scarred arm across your shoulders, suggests something both sacred & sensual & the clock can no longer hold its applause.
Riding in the car with your love’s head resting in your lap while out of town friends chauffeur you around town. The words “I love you” written in an IM convo because life is too short to wait for the right time! Kisses in Christmas tree lots where everyone else seems to disappear for a moment. Extra fancy valentine’s homemade with care. Surprise visits which you always seem to anticipate ahead of time because of the connection you share. Suppressed smiles over private jokes.
For me:
It’s meeting him for the very first time on that hot summer’s day. Hating him at first but then gradually started to like him. It’s waiting for him to leave the building and receiving that prize winning smile. It made me giggle. It’s those random phone calls that I would get. It’s the endless conversations about nothing. Fast forward to five months, and it’s the first time we kissed. The awkwardness, the tenderness. It’s the many fights that we’ve been in. It’s the make ups that are absolutely rewarding. It’s the silly-ness. It’s the time we ran in the freezing cold. It’s the warm kisses, the loving hugs and everything else in between. It’s the little gifts. It’s the love and acceptance of his family. it’s those mediocre cooked meals, but appreciated none the less. It’s the bus rides home. It’s playing video games together. It’s that one special moment where we thought we could actually jump to another place in time. It’s the picnics in the park. It’s the one year that has passed and still going strong. It’s the love, it’s everything.
I love you!
Men who allow you to cry while they hug you and don’t push for more than that when you are upset.
If I wanted to send you a letter where should I post it to?
It started in highschool, riding alongside each other on the school bus. Smiling shyly when our eyes met in the hall. It was the first sweet kiss i had to reach up on my tip toes for. It was sharing a drink under the freeway, and a hug everyday at 3:15. It’s the nights i cried because he had to leave. It’s the years of patience we’ve learned to have since then, and the heart peircing kiss we shared for the second first time in little tokyo. It’s the thousands of emails and uncountable calls. It’s the letters we’ve written and books we’ve read. It’s the 24 days until i see him again.
I miss you cuddle bear.
3 years 4 months 7 days 1 hour 17 minutes and counting.
Right now, my love is this guy who I’ve only met once, who talks to me for hours on facebook every night, writes stories about death, insanity, and history, and tells me about orgasmic truffles he bakes while I listen, laugh, insert philosophical tangents, and wish he were mine.
I’m only 16. Who knows what can happen?
PS We’re going ice skating on Saturday. I can’t wait.
Love is stealing them off someones msn when your 13 and thinking there absolutely gorgeous meeting them for the first time at a skate park and being absolutely infatuated as soon as you see them. Going to the same skate park every week
and connecting with them the most. Stupid conversations whilst there stoned, and youve never touched a drug or been drunk. Them giving you a rock when your crying and telling you to talk to it to make yourself feel better and you taking it home and painting a face on it with nail varnish. Buying a polo shirt because its like the one he wears. writing i love pirate ted all over your school diary. Them stopping going to the same skate park as you, then seeing them again a year later at a party. Being with them all night and them being sick all over your leg. Losing contact but talking to them on msn occasionally but still getting butterflies. Telling your friends there the best looking boy on earth. Persuading them to meet you, going to london and laying on a bench with them for an hour. Them stealing you an apple. 5 pound chiniese buffets and crying down the phone to your mum infront of them. Hour long conversations endless texts, wondering when there going to see you again. visiting them at work. Sleeping with them for the first time and being so nervous you cant breathe, not talking to them for a week after and being heartbroken. Finally getting them after 4 years, joints on a bench talking about life, hours in bed and watching them play guitar. Stupid arguments, endless fights but knowing you still love eachother.
For Me:
It’s listening to Regina Spektor while holding someone’s hand on a rainy day. It’s waltzing in a swimming pool to Mad World by Gary Jules and thinking about the cute boy you hugged/boob-squished (in a bikini) an hour earlier. It’s skipping through the neighbourhood on Hallowe’en, Sarah Palin and Batman hand and hand. It’s him sharing his chocolate bar. It’s a sneaky first kiss while my little sister is getting a popcorn refill. It’s a candy striped bra on the floor and Muse on the BOSE. It’s him calling me right now ♥
I think that love to me is when you catch up with friends that you haven’t talked to in ages. Especially camp ones that you haven’t seen since last summer. The bond that you create within a week still blows my mind. The love that comes pouring out with the first embrace after the thousands of minutes of not seeing them. The emotional attachment that you have with one spot ‘your thinking spot’ where you just sit back and reminisce about your past and dream about your future or the one piece of string that you wear as a bracelet which keeps you together no matter how long you’ve had it, or if it’s falling to sheds. Well that’s love to me….
The first kind of love is that flopping feeling you get when she kisses you in the empty theatre (And you’re not in love with /her/ maybe, but you’re certainly in love with the sheer beauty of the entire situation).
It shows up in the disappointment you feel when she calls you for the last time, and just when you think this strange sort of love won’t appear again, it does, this time in the form of hilarious, and slightly heartbreaking conversations with the other girl that lasts for hours.
Love might stick around for a while this time, even if you don’t want it.
The second kind of love is spending the afternoon on the cemetary hill with your best friend, drinking tea and telling stories.
It’s remembering that despite how much you hated those three sometimes, you still had fun.
It’s laying down in that- what did they call it, the Cuddle Puddle?- under the stars and loving all of them so much you feel like leaving them would break your heart.
Most of all, love is realizing that even though all of you parted months ago, you still think about them so much it occasionally hurts. Just a little.
The best kisses I ever had were in a dilapidated barn, far out in the country, on a chilly night. We were both covered in dirt and sweat after spending all afternoon with the horses. He was tall and so shyly sweet. He looked at me and says, “So I watched the Little Mermaid last night.” I shrugged until he said, “There’s this one song I’m thinking of…” and trailed off. It took me a moment but then I remembered the song You Wanna Kiss the Girl, Whoa-oa and grabbed his hand. The way that relationship died before it really began is one of my biggest regrets that still pains me. I miss my sexy cowboy even though he was never really mine. Even typing that memory brings a lump to my throat.
It’s him telling me I’m the most beautiful thing he ever saw.
It’s the fact that he never cries, yet when I’m crying he can’t help it because he can’t stand to see me so upset. It’s his family saying they’ve never seen him so happy, ever.
It’s him telling me he hates his birthdays, and never looks forward to them; then seeing his face light up as he gets home from work on his birthday and finds his room filled with balloons.
It’s him telling me his idea of love was completely erradicated by us, and me.
I have already commented on this one. But i have to say, these stories bring tears to my eyes. I have been trying to figure out my own feelings towards a certain fellow. We had been together for a pretty long time and i broke it off about a month ago..and..well he slept over last night. Sometimes, it is hard for me love. I feel that since i am young, that at my age i shouldn’t “fall” in love yet. It feels somewhat forbidden to me, and i can’t seem to stop that feeling.:(. But as he lay there, sleeping, and i..waking up way too early, sit here and read these..i glance up at him and realize that i never want to let him go.I layed back down and pressed my cheek to his back and felt like i had to make that last as long as i possibly could. I don’t know. I just don’t know. I may just be fearing that losing him will have an “all or nothing” affect on us. Ohhhhhhh oh oh oh. But yes, all these entries help me think, and help me feel. I think they may even help me not be so afraid to let love in.
thanks gala for posting this topic.
and thanks to everyone who has just inspired me completely.
For me it’s a boy who is as Capricorn as it gets, stubborn, loyal and apologetic, who tells me how sorry he was that he was late coming to get me on Valentine’s Day. It is a boy who can stand listening to me yammer on about my favorite band or movie or something trivial like what a nice pair of shoes a woman in front of me may have on. It is a boy who has become a man and in one sweet moment of being kissed on Saturday asked me something I’ve only asked him: “Do you love really love me?”
My answer to that boy, that man, was: “Yes. I love you.”
And I do. I love him with all my heart and all my soul. He’s the other half of me. The part that keeps my flighty Libra tendencies in check and keeps my head level. The part that reminds me of what is really important when I forget.
the feeling of this can’t really be true. what’s wrong with him? he can cook, he has a job and a car and he’s single, he has his own place that is actually clean and in order. he is respectful, has a good family, no major drama or exes blowing up his phone. he doesn’t let me go too far on our first date, he smiles and asks about me and asks things that no one has ever taken the time to ask, even guys that i’ve dated for years. he is smart and funny and years later i still discover new things about him that i love. playing lauryn hill’s, “you’re just to good to be true” tonight like i did years ago when i met him. knowing that if it were to ever end, i am such a stronger, more beautiful, more alive person than i ever was without having met him. not perfect everyday, but just love-real love.
our love is..
realizing we both have the same favorite planet. him pushing me harder than anyone else and understanding my weaknesses. supporting me and understanding me when no one else will. him moving himself to tears talking about how much he loves and appreciates me. both of us having sudden desires to watch the thriller video. him growing facial hair like johnny depp and me loving that about him.
our love is holding hands all night long while i’m in the hospital bed, hooked up to beeping and gasping machines, sleeping soundly, while he is scrunched into an awkward chair and awake..
we geek out over video games and plan trips to california and discuss what our future childrens’ names will be.
being the first everything and promising your ife because at that moment, you mean it. still loving him even after breaking up 14 times, still seeing all the good on top of the bad, but being able to stay away and accept it’s over and that you learned, and while you had it it was flawless.
My 3 dearest girlfriends live a minimum of 500 miles away, and we can sometimes go months without talking.
It never seems to matter, though.
Still thick as thieves…
Through deaths, breakups, job losses, marriages, nervous breakdowns, epic tantrums, mudslides and fires.
Better than any romantic love, and certainly more durable.
I remember/ won’t forget:
picking up habits from him- like not skipping songs on CDs & cracking my knuckles; adopting cutesy, disgusting nicknames (my favorite is still “boo”); that clean laundry smell; having two entire novels read to me aloud; that sinking feeling whenever we part; quirky e-mails; the front wheel of his new bike falling off after he had taken it out for a spin (& laughing about how painful it could’ve been); the same chipotle order every time: 3 soft steak tacos, only a little bit of hot salsa & cheese, and lettuce; barefoot walks; caraoke; he took me to a vegetarian restaurant the first week I decided to quit eating meat; kissing at red lights; running to each mistletoe at the botanic gardens every winter; that look in his eyes when he confessed he still had feelings for me.
Love is:
:Meeting you 3 years ago in Psychology class and deciding then and there that you were the one.
:Drunken phone calls when our friendship was very new.
:3 am walks to the playground to play on the slides with boozy breath
:Talking about music when the roads are dark and empty
:Being jealous of the girl in your room and telling you about it
:Not speaking to each other because of a few awkward incidents
:Kissing in the skyway at 5am
:Re-igniting our friendship after a long break
:Hanging out in your basement listening to music and having thoughtful conversations
:Little black dress on a summer night that ended in disappointment
:Being friends with no ulterior agenda
:Watching you play music in a basement
:Meeting your friends and your roommate
:Finally becoming a couple four months ago
:Breakfast Club late at night
:Going through the hell of long distance relationships for you
:Christmas presents
:Wine on Valentine’s day
:Kissing you and feeling like I’ve come home
:Your head on my shoulder while your groupies watch me in jealousy
:Spontaneous cuddle time in the afternoon.
Hey, M.E.D, I love you. I miss you.
It’s not very pretty, but: *Unclogging the toilet for me the first weekend we lived together when I took a giant poo
More pretty: *The after-glow from the first time we had sex *Playing me opera over the phone while he went to pee *Falling asleep on my chest and kissing my neck in his sleep *Writing me tiny, horrible poems *Making out for HOURS on school trips even though we were constantly chastised *Being naked in front of him for the first time and feeling no shame about my body *Watching him walk around the party store holding hands with a person-shaped balloon
It will take me days to read everyone’s stories, but I think they will be worth it.
For me, it was:
Falling in love the moment we met, because he told me he has missed his rocket to the moon.
Waking up on Sunday mornings to him playing my favourite song, Moonlight Sonata, on the piano.
Spontaneous outings at strange hours for ice-cream, or for a walk on the beach, or to take photos in the city.
Him being my knight in shining armour every time something bad happened, and whisking me away for hours of cuddles.
Random visits in his lunch break to bring me flowers he’d hand picked, and breakfast icecream.
Sending me bits of poetry and photo’s of pretty things on my cell phone when he knew I was having a tough day.
The way it felt like an electric shock every time he kissed me, touched me, or even looked at me.
His big smile every time he saw me coming towards him.
The beautiful agony of missing him so much when we couldn’t see each other, and then the excitement and making-up-for-lost-time affection when we finally had time to meet.
Teaching me to play guitar.
His patience at my wild mood swings, and knowing exactly when I needed to be alone, and exactly when I needed him back again, to hold my hand.
How he’d kiss my shoulders, and the space between my shoulder blades, and behind my ears.
God, so much of it was magic… I’d give anything to get it back…
Did somebody say Chicken Soup? :)
Kissing angry waterfall spray and pouring rain off a sweet mans face… Hershey’s kisses every time you meet… the perfect date of laughter, conversation and good times even when you never see him again…public displays of affection…not so public displays of affection… bear making in Disneyland… blatant flirting (the best!)
I believe my best stories are yet to come!
Nice post Gala
I love being told that I could do ANYTHING. It means much more than anything else… apart from I love you.
Ahh everyone has commented such cute stories on this!
Unfortunately I have no love stories to share but the closest thing I’ve gotten are simply good conversations, inside jokes and fun times with my real friends _
for me, it’s a tattooed boy; a leo and an aries – apparently a match where “sparks will fly”. it’s 2 writers, comparing old paragraphs and sentences written months, or even years ago – and learning how similar the two are. it’s hours spent at starbucks, extended conversations with wide vocabularies and hundreds of topics to be discussed. it’s shocking totals on phone bills, because of the amount of minutes – no – HOURS spent talking and talking and understanding and sharing opinions and learning about each other. it’s embracing each others bodies in ways more than just sexual – tattooed/skinny, built/bony, hairy/not hairy, short black hair/long brown hair, the dimples in the cheeks, the fluttery eyelashes, the careful features of the iris, the perfect/imperfect teeth, the strawberry champagne lips that taste so sweet, the short fingernails/long painted fingernails, the protruding ribcages and the pitter-pattering of the two hearts that lie beneath.
it’s two people that were meant to meet by the laws of the universe; they were simply created for each other.
in reality, one is barely aware of the other’s existence. how unfortunate.
I have been in a six month relationship with a boy who told me that I needed to start going to the gym to lose weight on my thighs, to stop wearing makeup, to stop wearing my outfit designs and that I would be so lucky if he would buy me that beautiful jacket I loved so much. I came out of that relationship hating myself, gaining weight and masking my face with more makeup and guarding my heart with a getaway to australia where no one knew me.
I learnt that love came in the form of finding a flat, a job, a new life, a new purpose all by myself. I learnt to love and heal myself.
Only then, it seems, did I stumble across my sweetheart, who loves staring at my naked jiggling bum and kissing my fresh unmade face, while delighting in my makeup skills when I do wear it. He makes me feel like jelly inside and loves my body my face and my opinions. Through his understanding and HIS arms that embrace me when I’m crying about my past or laughing about our future, I have learnt what it is to be truly loved by another person :).
It’s the guy who will drop by at 9am to come see you when you’re sick, even if he has to be at school in an hour. It’s the guy who will surprise you with two boxes of tea and offer to make a cup for you. He will call you at 4am to ring your phone for a study session, and sleepily tell you he loves you. He will bring dessert to your parents’ house and get your mom a birthday present, and you don’t even have to ask him to do it. He’ll give you these kisses at random moments, and it always makes you suck in your breath and close your eyes every time. And it’s the little ZING you get when you realize that you have him, and you still have him, and he makes you unbelievably happy. :)
i lost my job yesterday and he took the day off work (which he takes so seriously) to be with me and cry with me. we lay in bed all day telling each other secrets. he makes me raw vegan food for dinner. he is a complete junkfood man. he believes in me even when i don’t. what else is there?
He bought me a Melona ice~block, and became my best friend for life.
Love is the smell of his breath, and the way he searchs for mine.
Love is six years of young love, loving each other’s old souls.
Love is the emotion of knowing he is coming home. The excitement that drags me to put lipstick on my lips.
Love is the way he says “Jag älskar dig”, and “I love you” and “Te amo”.
Love is how he wants to hug me everynight, and how i let myself be hugged, no matter how unconfortable it can get.
Love is when we run around our tinny apartment and laugh untill we cry, and wonder how did they ever let us leave alone.
Love is to learn each other’s languages.
Love is to plan what we are going to do when we are 60, and imagine all the arguments that we are going to have over apple cider…
Oh, wow, wow, wow.
These stories are absolutely amazing.
I’m trying to hold back tears!
Good topic Gala, really, really.
I’ve never had a serious love or relationship I’ve been infatuated with, but there has been a few sweet moments in my 19 years of existance, a few short relationships and, the moments that happen with someone you so desperately want to be with forever –
Spending the day with him at the Big Day Out, and throwing my bag and hat down and sprinting after him, only moments after saying goodbye, to catch him and finally kiss him after all those months of crushing on him.
After which, my friends all revealed they’d been watching in awe and that my act of spontinaitety was one of the most inspiring things they’d ever seen.
I’d never done anything spontanious like that, ever, and it made me feel like jelly all over. My legs could hardly keep me standing when I stood there in his arms, it was absolutely amazing.
I’ve crushed on him for a year and now, after my act of spontinaitey that I thought would be the start of something absolutely amazing, he doesn’t even talk to me. He ignores my texts and doesn’t reply to my emails.
But still, those few moments where we stood, holding each other in the middle of a packed festival were amazing.
And my other long time crush that I’ll never have – Seeing him for the first time in photography class and thinking “I must know him. I must meet him… He looks like an amazing person” and then spending the better part of the year lusting after him. We sure had some sweet moments though…
The phone calls at 9pm when everyone else has bailed on me in the city and he comes to my rescue, sweeps me off me feet and takes me to dinner, saying all my friends don’t deserve to know me.
The nights staying up until 4am holding hands and talking about everything.
The endless in jokes that no one else at uni understood.
The 6 months we spent glued to each other’s sides, even though he had a girlfriend…
The lazy uni afternoons spent drawing and lying on the grass in the sun together.
Him helping me to my assignments because he wanted to.
The countless times I borrowed that one scarf that smelt of him and refused to take it off.
The many, many days towards the end of semester where we skipped classes together and snuggled on his couch infront of the tv instead.
I only wish either of these had turned into something more meaningful, more substantial, more permanent.
Maybe one day I will find love, I can only hope.
I feel sad and slightly happy all at once right now.
Thankyou Gala.
xx
Writing me stories of how much he loves me; telling each other our deepest secrets within days of knowing each other; cuddles which make me feel like nothing could ever hurt me as long as he’s there; walking in the pouring rain for hours just to be together; uncontrollable butterflies; not being able to take my eyes off him; never calling me by anything but gorgeous or beautiful; planning adventures together; outrageous flirting; buying me chocolate and giving it to me in class in front all his friends; shania twain and blink 182 songs; feeling of longing to see him; worry of failing my class because i just couldn’t concentrate when he was there; him.
Art school hipster boys don’t take you to candlelit dinners, oh no.
They don’t think being pretty is enough, oh no. They want to see if you’ll dance at a noise show. Will you cover your ears and grimace? Will you whinge and complain of hearing damage? Will you snidely say, “Well, it’s interesting, but it’s not music.“ I shook my hips to the arrhythmic beat, I swam in the oceans of drone. And all the while, he sized me up, same as I was wondering, “Does he have a girlfriend? Does he like me?” First kisses don’t always happen on balconies, on beaches, on park benches and dancefloors. Sometimes they happen on grandmotherly-patterned sidewalk-salvaged couches in underground art spaces as guitar pedals loop ribbons of tortured noise around you and draw you closer.Aw Gala that was beautiful – all of these stories are so lovely. :)
For me, it’s still remembering exactly how she smelt, eyes open when we kissed, have i mentioned her smell?, texts telling me to have a good nights sleep when i’m far away, finger tip conversations, her appearing on the top of the stairs to give me cuddle, endless laughter and so many inside jokes it was unfair to anyone else in our company, making so many mistakes, electricity when our arms touched, watching her play piano and feeling like my heart was about to burst, knowing each other so well we second guessed each other, and spooning on her sofa while we watched nature documentaries then springing apart when her parents got home.
making a shower for me in the warehouse we live in
At a party, I’d managed to convince this guy (who I’d known for a long while but only recently realised I fancied the pants off him) to sleep in my tent with me. As I took his hand and we crawled inside, I was buzzing with anticipation. To my disappointment however, he went straight to sleep. Rubbish.
A few hours later I woke up, early morning sun making the tent eerily bright, and we were lying face-to-face. I don’t know who started it but very, very slowly, eyes still shut, we moved so that our lips were lightly brushing together. Then the softest of kisses. Then a bit more. Within a few minutes we were rolling around, kissing wildly, still without saying anything. It was fabulous! Three and a half years later, he’s the love of my life, my very bestest friend. As we lie in our own filth, snuggled up and watching episode after episode of 24, we like to talk about that morning that started it all and the best kiss in the whole world!
I think an honorable mention should surely go to family too. I’m in my 4th year of university and I still receive packages in the post from my family – weird CDs with my name in the title from my dad, homemade cookies from my mum, Dime bars and packets of dried fruit from my nanny. Little ‘thinking of you’ texts. I love and appreciate them all so very much.
When we spent three hours working together, and saying very little, he pulled me aside at the end and said “I’m going to spend more time with you.” When I looked puzzled, he said, “You make time go so much faster.”
When we worked together the next day, I dripped paint all over his nose and sat against the wall frame, ruining it and my shirt. He said “It’s a joy to paint with you.”
It’s the text messages that wake you up at four in the morning to say “I love you” and the playlist of songs that reminded him of you that takes 17 cds to burn. Its the way the hardwood floor of his bedroom felt on your back when you lay there all night, just to be closer to him. Its the way the smell of his shampoo on the subway makes your heart stop two years after it all ended.
And for me, the bigger love is the kind with no romance at all. It’s hearing from a friend after six months of silence and ending that conversation with “I’ll always love you.” Its hospitality and openness and carting three gallon buckets of scalding hot water up half a mile hills just so I can have a warm shower. Its a six year old child sobbing on the back porch when you leave. Its carrying a seventy pound bag for an hour so I can relax. Its the tears in her eyes when she hugged me goodbye, saying “I’m so glad you were here.” Its a two hundred dollar check given for no reason but that you can follow your dreams, its staking your life on the line for the child you left behind. Its leaving your heart behind everywhere you go, letting home become everyone that’s ever felt anything for you, or that you’ve ever loved. Its videos on your facebook months after you last talked. Its getting up at five just to see the friends you’ll see that afternoon anyways.
Love is…ask and you shall receive boxes full of prisms for your garden…getting gifted a candle to burn when you think of each other when you are far away for the summer…cinnamon rolls and hot toddies in a rotting Victorian house when you are both sick…making jewelry together…driving on crazy cross-country trips…letting him borrow a dress so he can be a woman for Halloween…spraining your knee on a long hike on a way away from civilization trail and having him hike back 5 miles, get the car, drive 20 miles out of the way, and hike back into the woods to find and carry you out to safety…making love on a beach one night with someone you hardly know…long-winded conversations over wine after 8 or 9 years, realizing how great the moment is because you never thought it would happen…sharing soup, tea, coffee and chocolate with ginger all in the same day…singing with someone else when you never have…dancing wildly, crazily, and realizing that no one really is there except the two of you…doing laundry in a tub on the roof of your house in Mexico…realizing that there is always more love, more more more in the world and having a heart open enough to accept it, and to say that no matter how much heartbreak, there is always more love to give and receive.
For me it is:
Going out of my way to meet him when he finishes work, being insane together on the bus and not caring who stares, cuddling together on our bed, catching his eye and sharing a smile, the way that I realise he is my greatest friend in the world, the surprises he springs on me when I didn’t have a clue what he was up to, loving to hug even when we are both sweaty and smelly, the way he looks when he’s asleep and the love I see in his eyes and I know he sees in mine.
:-)
Love, for me, is being 14 years old and finding that one person that’ll always be your first love, no matter what. It’s sneaking out at 2 AM and staying out until the last possible minute, so that we don’t get caught. It’s meeting him by being asked, “do you want to be my best friend?” and saying, “uh, sure?” And the first time you actually hang out is in a gazebo at 3 in the morning. It’s almost setting said gazebo on fire accidentally. It’s stealing kisses when no one is looking. It’s him tickling me and me saying ‘stop’ (even through I secretly want him to). It’s wrestling each other and him not letting me win like most guys would. It’s calling each other really mean names and telling each other off, and then laugh at our stupidity and make out. It’s being caught making out almost naked by your little sister, and then her promising not to tell the parents. It’s breaking up and continuing hooking up. Forbidden love. Going to a retirement home asking for cigarettes. Stealing a bottle of Vodka and sneaking drinks under the Christmas tree when no one is in the room. When I have to tell him that when I say I’m cold, he is supposed to put his arm around me. Being kissed on the neck. Breaking up and dating a new guy, but knowing you still love him. It’s having both of them in the room together and making eyes at the ex, and texting him saying, ‘can’t wait until the boyfriend leaves!’ Buying him $50 worth of gifts at Christmas and baking cookies, and only getting the boyfriend a shirt on clearance.
And then it’s also promising to never like my best friend, because that’s the only way he could hurt me, and he does it anyway. Us making promises that he never kept but I still keep them to this day. Leaving your boyfriend for him, even when he has a new girl. Sneaking out one last time, and the last thing he says is ‘I love you.’ And then it’s not talking for weeks, and when you say hi one day he says ‘I hate you.’
It’s all that and still loving him.
It’s…
the way he likes the alternate egos i make up, how he stares at me when he thinks i’m not paying attention, the way he smells better than anything in the universe, him getting me his cologne to spray on my pillow every night for valentines day, its the realization that its not the cologne that smells so fantastic-its him. Its the way absense both makes the heart grow fonder, and rips it to shreads; The way my hands dont go sweaty in his; How when i’m in his bed i feel like i’m in the perfect place.
Its how one day i cant picture us together past college graduation, and the next i can’t picture myself with anyone else; how he accepts me with all my flaws and blatant imperfections; how hes not creative at all; how his eyes are the perfect shade of blue/gray; How he liked me even when i wasnt wearing any makeup and dress a few sizes too big; how he’s a horrible kisser, but i love love kissing him; its how i almost destroyed his truck when we were making out in the drivers seat and my foot slipped and hit the gas; how he puts his hand on my thigh between my legs and like a gentleman doesnt slide it up; how he’s willing to drive an hour and a half both ways just to see me for two hours; and mostly how i cant guess anything he’s thinking and because i’m such a control freak, hes a steady constant in this inscrutable crazy world.
I’d started writing. But the last love I had was more filled with tears than laughter. I shouldn’t even be thinking about him, let alone writing a love story about it.
So I guess that’s love too. Loving myself enough to walk away. Choosing to start a new life and follow my dreams instead of waiting forever on someone else to make me happy. Knowing what the loving moments were but choosing not to dwell on them or become nostalgic. Still loving him after all the hurt and wishing him to be happy.
These stories are great guys, it’s got my heart full of happy butterflies. I can’t wait to fall in love again! :)
I loved reading the comments above.
I wrote this LJ and I am embarrassed at my own mush, but this makes me realise how I much I love him (amongst countless other things)
He rarely falls asleep facing me. When he does, I find it so distracting and impossible to sleep. The side of his face not resting on the pillow is slightly illuminated by the orange glow of the streetlight outside our bedroom window. I can just about make out his features, although if I stare at one part of his face too long, it disappears into darkness. He doesn’t snore. He purrs, like a tiger cub. When he breathes out, I breathe in. I’ve time it perfectly. With each breath, I inhale his smell. I can’t begin to describe it, but you know the one I mean, right? It’s the most amazing smell in my world. I feel like I am drifting away and my chest is being crushed each time I inhale it, but I want more. The tiger cub stops purring. I close my eyes. He leans in and kisses me on the forward. Twice. I open my eyes. His are still closed. He breathes out. I breathe in. And I drift away even further…
more- taking out your cameras at the exact time moment to take pictures of a sunset downtown, or of a weird looking bug. sharing everything. knowing you can never fully leave him, even after the 14th time you have.
love is liking your best friend and having you tease me, then realizing you’re so much more than he could ever be. love is realizing too late what your intentions really were. love is singing at me and making me afraid of you. love is purposely forgetting your book every day so you can share mine. love is making the teacher hate me, because we can’t possibly stop talking long enough to listen to her. love is skipping gym every day just to sit with you in the balcony. love is wanting you to kiss me so badly when you smile. love is your high-fives. love is your silly voices and your constant jokes. love is quoting dane cook and screaming my name. love is your complete lack of “clique etiquette”. love is the way your eyes scrunch up and you look like a little boy. love is your frankenstein head. love is gasping when you catch my eye. love is realizing that i love you and almost crying over it; and when you notice, you making me feel better. love is wondering when i stopped thinking you were gross. love is realizing your knees actually can go weak over a boy. love is riding in your car and having you come back and ring my doorbell. love is trying to figure you out. love is flicking my forehead. love is laughing about everything and nothing. love is the way you always watch my mouth move. love is realizing how easily i fall in love.
deliciousness is cute boys who tag your name on a bus seat.
love is a best friend who feasts on copious amounts of chocolate and asian food with you , to help with the problems you don’t even have to explain because they already know & a family that loves you unconditionally.
I’d had a crush on her for a month & a half before I threw a party with cupcakes & warm fuzzies. At the end of it, as I was dropping everyone off at the subway, I slipped a letter into her hand. Then I smiled, hugged her, & scampered home.
That night, she called me & said, “So… We should date.” Apparently she’d liked me just as long as I’d liked her.
Love is cute boys who wear glasses and are into alternative energy. Love is boys who ride bikes and drink tea with me. Love is club bouncers who really aren’t as badass as they’d like to come across. Love is making a promise to return to the abandoned house we drove past with flashlights so we could explore it. Love is making prank phone calls from the payphone at the lake with all the spare change we could find. Love is listening to Mitch Hedberg and laughing every single time. Love is the Greyhound bus and the many adventures it’s taken me to. Love is sharing a garbage bag so we wouldn’t get wet in the rain. Love is someone letting me call them in the middle of the night because the thunder is too loud. Love is all the little moments I can recall that have made my heart go pitter patter. :)
I don’t have any love stories. Good love stories have a middle, a beginning and a happy ending. I have the beginning bit down to an artform, but have somewow never managed to make a good middle out of a flirtation or a cheeky smile over scotch. I do want the middle. And I really want the happy ending. I just don’t know how.
Being abandoned after a suicide attempt because you’re not fun anymore and still loving him.
Just because of the times all the times I snuck out in the middle of the night to drive around with him for 20 minutes.
Or the intensity of his everything.
Or the way his borderline sociopathy made his affection all the more precious.
Or the intense fucked up shit we did, daring each other.
We pushed each other to our extremes.
It was sick, but I’m not glad its over.
I wish I could talk to him without hearing disgust in his voice.
Don’t love too much, boys don’t like desperation.
Clutching hands and watching David Gray perform our favourites as the sun set.
Hotel rooms, white sheets, tangled limbs.
Eating chocolate cake with our hands in bed at 5am.
Candles, always candles.
Kissing his eyelids goodbye in the morning as he still sleeps.
Finding the soft places on his neck, his ears, his chest.
Laughing until we cry on the train to Brussels.
Apologising after arguments, conceding to each other.
Him helping me with his language, me helping him with mine.
Shopping lists with hearts drawn on them, to remind me to smile.
Saying sentences in unison. Watching him drive. Every wink, every smile, every kiss.
Adoring someone SO MUCH and being unsure about whether or not they adore you back…
Then unexpectedly recieveing an Email reading “I think i Love you..”
it’s him telling me i have the nicest ass & me laughing it off and thinking him to be the most shallow boy. it’s me thinking that he’s quite the player, yet getting excited and smiling when my phone vibrates on my bed, at 2 in the morning , because we can’t stop texting. it’s when i start to leave at a part & him running after me & pulling me back, in his strong arms. and when i ask why, he looks at me and just says “i just want you to stay.”
it’s him understanding that i’m too busy to be with him, so he simply talks to me every day counting down to the day of our date. it’s him telling me, at random moments, that i’m not just any girl. it’s him being jealous and protective when i talk about another boy. it’s his cologne that makes my heart flutter when he grabs me for a hug. it’s a shirt he made me for my birthday, with the lingering scent that i so love.
it’s the entire world thinking we’re together, but we’re not technically, but we are. it’s not love, but the closest thing.
To me, love has been tickling sessions, where I protest until I cry but secretly love it. Talking all the way to Chicago and getting there without turning on the radio once. Challenging each other politically. Asking millions of “What are your thoughts on…” questions. Planning our retirement together. Telling me that his house is now my house. Cooking together. Doing dishes together. Picking out all of his clothes for him. Being super critical of him because I know he deserves it, and he can do anything. Baking for him. Taking 45 minutes to say goodnight on my doorstep. Texting to make sure he got home safe. Holding hands where ever we go. Knowing he would do anything to protect me. Looking over at him while he is driving and thinking, I love him so damn much. Spending all day together then calling his cell the second he leaves to ask what’s up. Having the most fun when we are together. Spending 24 hours in bed together, and not feeling guilty about it. Overlooking shortcomings. The first time he cries in front of you. Hearing a song that you know was made for the two of you. Him remembering a song you told him about months ago and seeing his breath catch when it comes on. Eating endless pints of Ben and Jerry’s together on a pull out couch in the living room. Agreeing on that flavor of Ben and Jerry’s. Compromising. Doing anything to be with him. Driving half an hour and half an hour back to see him for 15 minutes. Stealing his sweatpants and even though he complains, you know he likes it. Packing each others lunches. Notes to each other. Thinking about him ALL day. Feeling the pull of the tattoo you got together with every step. Overlooking flaws. Fighting. Screaming. Saying things you never ever thought could come out of your mouth… especially to him. Hearing things you know he doesn’t mean. Hearing things you are terrified he means. Hearing things you KNOW he means, and it hurting you to your very core. Crying. A lot. Crying every night. New Years Eve alone. Suspicious. Dragging it out. Knowing you still love each other, but it just isn’t a good fit. Knowing for a fact that you could be happy together. Giving up for him. Giving up on him. Giving up on each other. Being mean to each other, because you know what will crush them the most. Trying to move on. Sloooowly. Trying to not think about him. Trying to not feel anything for him. Him constantly still trying to suck you back in. You knowing it is too late. You knowing it over, but the pain still hurts with every breath
how he tells me i’m beautiful all the time, and how his hand feels completely perfect in mine – like it was made to be there. how his smile makes me melt inside like warm playdough, and how he can be himself around me and i can be myself around him. how i dont feel the need to impress him, because he tells me he’s already impressed by everything i do, and how i feel like a princess with every word that he says to me. how he says i’m crazy for not thinking i’m pretty, and how he tells his friends about my dimwitted drivvel. definatley how he carries me home when we’ve went out to town, and i’ve stupidly wore heels and got drunk, and can no longer walk in them. or how his eyes say so much more than his mouth ever could. the way that when he whispers something to me i get shivers from the sound of his voice, and his awesome cullinary skills. the many of our inside jokes – i seen a girl on heeleys and thought she was gliding, he never lets me live it down .. – and the way he makes me laugh so hard i cry. the way he looks when i wake up, like i’m something new and shiny, and the way he whispers “i love you” right before i go to sleep. how he hugs me when i’m cold, and the piggy-backs he gives me just because i am incredibly lazy. all of the times he’s been there for me when i’m sad, and how he’s a best friend aswell as the best boyfriend ever. all the things he does that amazes me, and how he’s just so perfect and beautiful, leaving me completely breathless everytime i’m with him..