Our love started young
way back in Spring.
Your radiance made me blossom
into bouquets of colour,
and it felt like something new had begun.
And then Summer arrives,
the heat of our love at it's highest.
We spend our days in the blue,
warm and alive,
like we'll always feel complete.
But soon Autumn will encroach
with it's leaves of red and brown,
falling to the ground
like your love for me,
eventually swept away as the skies cloud over.
And I dread when Winter comes,
when our past will be long forgotten
and our feelings will lie beneath white blankets of change.
You'll have disappeared
and my heart will turn cold.
You are my sun,
and I never want Summer to fade.
My thoughts floated round my head as I lay in bed, springing off of one another, bouncing up and down in momentary glee. I had actually done it. I had got somewhere I wanted to get. Now, according to last night (presuming it wasn’t a dream), he was mine. All mine. And because he wanted to as well, not just because I wanted to. He had asked himself, and I had accepted, and now the euphoria I felt was uncontrolled, was excessive of what I usually felt, even on a good day. I had never quite known something could make me so happy, but it did. Two years of building up had found me right at the top, and for once in my life I was happy about the present and not worried about the future.
It was strange though. Almost like I couldn’t believe it. The idea had not quite set in yet, and I was constantly having to remind myself that I was not in a dream, but in reality, a reality that for once was looking up.
I was excited about Monday. That was when I would see him again. Though I wasn’t entirely sure how to react. Would I act like we were in a relationship? I didn’t know whether he wanted his friends to know just yet. Or anyone, for that matter. I hadn’t had a chance to talk to him about that the night before, as shortly after our get together my parents appeared to pick me up, early, at my annoyance, and so had to leave him there, without any other conversation but our parting goodbyes. I had been quiet in the car, processing what had actually happened inside my head, but once I got home and upstairs to my room my excitement became increasingly apparent. The first thing I had done was lie on my bed, and replay what had happened that night. The way he looked at me, his usually calm voice, nervous but still flowing, the softness of his skin against mine and he touched my hand...It really was like a dream. Quite like I had imagined it to be. I kept the events repeating in my head, and then took out my poetry book. I had new inspiration now, happier and more fulfilling. I could finally write something positive about my life. Something that I well and truly wanted people to know about. Him. My own light, my own sun. He had been everything to me before, but now he had admitted it, and that made him even more to me.
Now it was the next morning, and I had nothing to do but wait until the day was over, and Monday had approached. Monday would be the day that I would find out if my mind had been playing tricks on me. Monday would be the day that our relationship would truly start.
And so I got up, out of bed, and downstairs, going by my normal Sunday routine and wishing it would hurry up. I spent the day drawing, painting and writing. And thinking. I was lost in my thoughts once again, until Monday came and I wouldn’t have to escape my mind, because what I wanted to be happening would be included in reality.
Monday. It was the day. The day I had been waiting for. I would finally get to see him again.
I was worried, in a way. Worried that he might take back his offer, or deny it, or only had said it as a joke. Though that wasn’t like him, not at all. He would never do such a thing.
I was quite wary on my walk into school. Excited, but wary. Time was going too slow, when all I wanted was for it to speed up and get me to my destination.
When I actually got to college, he wasn’t there, though I had been expecting that. He was rarely early for registration, even if something important was coming up. He did arrive for registration, however, and when he saw me came and sat next to me, smiled, and lightly touched my hand underneath the table.
“Hey. Sorry I had to leave yesterday.”
“It’s okay. How are you?” He looked at me tentatively, as if he was also worried about me changing my mind.
“I’m great, thanks. I really am.”
I smiled to reassure him that I was not, under any circumstances, going to change my mind.
When everyone else got up to leave, he touched my hand again, and stood up, walking out as normal. It was as if what had happened was only for us to know – our little secret, with no one else being allowed to find out.
I spent the rest of the day up until lunch wondering about everything. Wonder whether we would tell anyone, whether we would act normally or show the change. I was slightly confused about how he felt, but I knew we would be able to talk later on.
Midway through lunch he took me to my hidden place – the spot underneath the stairs. We sat there for a while, half-embracing, until I finally broke the silence.
“So...what’s happening between us?”
“What do you mean?”For once he looked genuinely confused. There was a flicker of worry in his usually calm composure.
“Well...are we telling anyone about us? Or keeping quiet?”
“To be honest, I think it would be better if we kept quiet...for now. Just for a couple of weeks.”
He didn’t appear to have any reason for this. I felt uncomfortable asking, and so dismissed the idea. Instead, I reached for his hand, and held it tight, leaning my head slightly against his shoulder.
We sat together for the rest of lunch. Talking, again at a higher level than we had done previously. No one disturbed us, and that was how I liked it. When the bell finally went to signify lunch ending and classes beginning, I sensed a slight awkwardness within him. This made me feel awkward also, and I removed my hand from his and stood up, pulling him up after me.
He looked around him, trying to find something to study, but, nothing or no one being there, he turned to face me. “...We should get to lessons.”
“Yeah, we should.”
We walked up the stairs, and went our separate ways at the top; him to Music and me to English. I wouldn’t see him until the next day, so I gave him my goodbye smile and headed for the door. He returned the smile to me, and that was the most contact we had for the rest of the day.
The next couple of weeks went by quite fast, and our relationship, though growing, still felt new. We had kissed once or twice, though it was rare because of the college situation, and most weekends I was busy with work and he with various projects he had to do.
One Thursday, after college, he caught me by the arm just as I was walking out of the gates and pulled me aside.
“Do you want to go into town or something?” He sounded out of breath, like he had put effort into catching up with me.
“Sure, when though?”
“Now!” His eyes widened as he said this. I could see every perfect tone within them.
“Okay, let’s go.” Smiling, I took his hand and we started to walk, but after a few paces he released himself from my grip.
“Not here. Sorry.”
I nodded and we walked together unconnected, but hands lingering close, the tension felt between them. I could sort of understand why he didn’t want anybody to know, but then again, there was nothing wrong with our relationship. I couldn’t see it, anyway. We were two normal people that were going out. There were no taboos that could be associated with it; we were not a gay couple, we were not of mixed faith or race, and neither of us had a dark secret that everyone knew, that the other one could be embarrassed or ashamed of. I guessed it was simply because we had just started out. Though saying that, it had been more than a couple of weeks, longer than he said we should wait.
We reached town about fifteen minutes after leaving college, and went straight to the nearby park. We sat down on the grass, and unoccupied, began to talk.
I asked him about his day, and he told me what had happened; mainly the negative things but he used humour to portray them. He had brought biscuits with him which I thought was sweet, and we finished the packet within ten minutes.
After half an hour of general discussion I got my camera out. I had always had a slight obsession with capturing the important moments, and I felt this, as our first true excursion outside of college, was one of those moments I wanted to keep forever. He was less inclined, and it took a good five minutes of talk before I had to force him into the picture. He had smiled though, and that was what mattered, as I now had photographic proof of him wanting to be around me. His smile was not just a pose; it was a true smile, reflecting how he felt. I put my camera back and laid on the grass, pulling him down with me.
We must have laid there, on the grass, for at least forty minutes. It was cold, typical February weather, and I used that as an excuse to pull myself closer to him, and hold him tight. We did not talk, hearing only the sounds of other groups of people around us, and what we were thinking in our minds.
We walked to the bus stop in the dark. I was tired now, from the silence of my ears and my eyes. We were talking still, but not as effortlessly as before and with not as much meaning.
His bus turned up first, and he waved at me as he was about to get on. Before he could I pulled him back, and without letting him say a word, or protest at keeping the bus waiting, kissed him softly but meaningfully on the lips. He smiled, and as he got on the bus waved again, and made a heart shape with his hands.