It’s a concept I am incredibly unfamiliar with. It’s never existed in my life and I can’t see it in the people around me. People talk about how much they love one another with their whole being, but it’s all just lies and games. They fade out like a one hit wonder and scream with raw hate that they never loved one another. Or they find someone else that they loved more than the other, someone who could give them the rush that the other one used to give them. Over the years, I have come to the conclusion that Love does not exist through my own experiences. It’s just a chemical reaction caused by the body and people are desperate to insist it’s something more or to get the high.
Then, why does this boy insist it exists? He explains that he shows love through his actions and words. He says that Love will always reign victorious in its own time. He gave me roses on impromptu occasions and took me on lovely dates. He acted the role of a gentleman perfectly. He wanted to hear about my day and he wanted to know every single detail about me. He took me to look at the night stars on the hill in the park. He did thoughtful, wonderful things, and treated me like a human being. He never pressured me and never shouted back at me when I shouted at him. He didn’t seem to care that I was damaged to a fault. He always claimed that he saw the real me underneath all the hurt and pain. I mean this boy is just the same right? He can’t love me. Love does not exist.
“I love you.”
“Stop saying that. It isn’t true. You don’t mean it.”
“Of course I mean it. Why else would I be saying it? I don’t say things I don’t mean and I mean it when I say I love you.”
“Love doesn’t exist. You just want it to.” I sneered at him. My tone implied the conversation was over with in a frosty manner and my eyes grew cold, thinking of the dark truth. We stood a few feet away from each other and our faces both held a grim determination to prove the other was wrong. We both knew we were right and the other was going to lose in this game. Either way, one of us would get hurt in the end.
Apparently, the boy decided to take this as a challenge. He was always taking the challenge to prove love was real. I never understood it. I never understood the greatest high that came with the worst crash. A determined smile graced his face and he closed the distant between us quickly. We stood chest to chest and face to face, only a few inches away from each other. “Fine then, I guess I will have to prove this to you.” He said with a teasing tone and a smirk on his face.
“I would like to see you try. I doubt you can do it.” I challenged. He had nothing on me.
The boy took a deep breath before leaning down to connect his lips with mine. I could feel the high begin to infiltrate my senses. It started out slow and kind; just enough to give me time to push away if I wanted to. He wouldn’t pressure me to do something I didn’t want to. He knew better than that. After a few seconds, he wrapped his hand into my hair and deepened the kiss, allowing the next stage of the high to kick in. There was something different about this kiss. The high wasn’t like anything I had experienced. Sure, I had been kissed by other guys, but none of them were like this; the high wasn’t so intense. It’s hard to explain when you feel like you’ve lost all sense of reality.
Butterflies fluttered in my stomach and the high increased even more. There was something so calm, yet nerve-wracking about the high of this kiss. I wanted more of him; I wanted him. It wasn’t in a physical sense; I could have cared less about the physical high. The high I am talking about affected your emotions and your heart. It warped them into something unrecognizable and foreign.
I knew exactly what I wanted in that moment and I knew what this high required of me. I wanted to be near him and hear about his day. I wanted to know more about every little detail of his being. I wanted to give him my heart and surrender in every sense of the word. He gave me the choice to stay or run. He wouldn’t pressure me to love him if I couldn’t. He realized that the scars of my heart were still fresh and I needed a little more time than others. He didn’t want to use me the way others did. I wasn’t just another source to get high on.
In that moment, I kissed back, accepting the high fully. It wasn’t just a simple return of the gesture as it used to be. This was something more; a way of letting him know the tides had turned. He would be my high and I would be his. I didn’t need anyone else to give me that same ecstasy. I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling myself in. We stood, kissing for a few moments until we needed to come up from our high. We broke apart, slightly gasping for the air so desperately needed and the relief from the ecstasy we craved.
“So you do love me?” He teased with a playful tone. There was something different in his eyes. He seemed surprised, but incredibly happy as well. I couldn’t have him thinking he won, could I?
I smirked and replied “Nah, I just like you now.” My eyes held a mischievous glint and the tone of my voice tried to be teasing.
“Oh, that kiss begged to differ! I think someone might actually love me!”
“Maybe, you should try again and see! I doubt the something will happen.”
“Maybe I will!”
He pressed his lips to mine again and the high took over the both of us in an instant. After all, the high of love was a powerful one.
Word Count: 1,063