They give me items,
Item I don’t need
But I accept anyway.
He gives me metaphors,
But they are metaphors so powerful
That I am taken aback each time.
They tell me
Speaking only with their heads.
He listens to his heart
And repeats what it says,
Touching my own heart with his.
They can only give me so much.
I can only receive so much.
He gives me pure, incredible perfection
That no one else can beat.
Wrapping me in the stars,
Dazzling me in the sun,
I am speechless every time.
Looking back, I had made something out of my life. It had taken a year, but I had got to a goal where I knew I wouldn’t return from. Everything had fallen into place. I knew where I was headed now. And it seemed like paradise.
I was nearly finishing my first year at university, in the middle of June, and I was loving every minute of it. My English course was enjoyable; I had made new friends, and had already been secured a job with someone. And I had him still. We were together. Everything had worked out how I wanted it to.
Our home was small, but nice. It had not cost much, but enough to have to get a second job for a while, and what imperfections it had we had either changed over time or accepted. It was just us, and it was great. There was nothing else I needed in life, as I had it all right here where I lived.
Tuesday was one of my days off, and I was looking forward to seeing him again, once he had come home from work. Usually he would get back before me but on some days I had no lectures or work, so I had the house to myself until he returned. His job was a typical 9 – 5 one that he had to commute to; mine was sometimes in the mornings and sometimes in the evenings, depending on what I had to attend for my course.
I lay on our bed, waiting for him, thinking about how lucky I really was. I felt so happy that I could call things ours now, rather than mine, or his. They were in our house that we both lived in, belonging to both of us. It made our connection even stronger.
As I was thinking, I heard the buzz of my phone coming from my coat pocket. I got off the bed, and went to retrieve it, wondering who it could be. It was nearly 6 o’clock, and my friends rarely texted me at that time. I pulled out the phone, and saw his name written on the screen of my phone. I read the text, confused as to why he was texting me.
‘Hey baby, working overtime so will be late back, I’ll get you something nice to make up for it. I love you x’
Working overtime? He never did that. I lay back down on our bed, sighing with slight disappointment. Not with him, but with the lack of time we would have together that night. I didn’t know what time he would get back, but I guessed it would be late. I got up again and went downstairs to make myself dinner. This was going to be a long night without him.
By 8pm he was still not back. I was lying on my bed again, thinking about everything that had happened up until now. I thought first about my original him, and how I had obsessed over him. How I had become so delusional. I had learnt a lot from that relationship, if you could call it one. I thought about the first time I laid eyes on him, the first time I spoke to him, the first time we had a decent conversation. Then there was of course the first time we discussed our feelings with each other, and the first kiss. And nothing more. All of those firsts were good at the time, but they did not compare at all with my firsts that I shared with my current boyfriend. The one who I was now living with. With him, I had experienced many firsts. Our first meeting, the first conversation we had, the first time I met him on my own, the first time he told me how he felt, the first kiss...and there were more. The first month we had shared together, the first time he came round, the first present he got me, the first time we became as one. The first time I fell in love. And that would be the only time - I was sure of it. The firsts that we had had were the best. Compared with all other relationships I had ever had, his had been the most enlightening. And the fact that it still carried on made it even more so.
There had been bad firsts with my previous relationship as well. The first time he didn’t show affection to me, the first time he forgot something important, the first time I was disappointed, the first time I realised my feelings had all gone...they were not good firsts in any way, but I had still learnt valuable lessons from them. In my current relationship there had been bad firsts, like our first argument, and our first time away from each other for a while, but the good firsts outweighed them so much that all that mattered was what I had learnt from them. I believed that everything happened for a reason, whether good or bad – I had learnt a lot from all my past experiences.
I looked up, and he still wasn’t in, so I lay back down again. The time was approaching half past eight, and I missed him. I couldn’t be apart from him for long. I had got so used to being apart from my previous partner that I thought I would be able to cope, but I couldn’t. It didn’t feel right when he wasn’t around. Sure, it was bearable at university and work, but at home it was strange. Like the house was missing a part of it. Like I was as well.
Thinking about it, I had learnt a lot. I had been able to recognise the bad aspects of a relationship, and what you’re partner shouldn’t do. And also, I guessed, what I shouldn’t have done. And how being deluded or obsessive really did not help the relationship in any way. I also learnt to have a bit of confidence from it, way before I was even in a relationship. I learnt to never judge a book by its cover, and always have faith in my feelings, as they are the most reliable source of my mind. And most of all, I learnt to fight for what I truly want, and never give up. I think those were some of the most valuable lessons that I had learnt from both relationships.
I heard a key in the door, and jumped up, excited to see him again. My thinking about him had made me miss him even more than I usually did. I was euphoric all of a sudden, counting down the seconds until he came upstairs and I could converse with him once again. We could catch up on both of our days, and then go and lie down together again, peaceful with each other.
He took his time walking upstairs, taking each step slowly as if he was trying to avoid something. It puzzled me, so I just sat there, silent, until he came in. He opened the door quietly, peering in before entering.
“Hi! Why are you so quiet?”
“I thought you might be asleep or something...”
“It’s not even nine yet though?” Sometimes he really did make me laugh. I sat down on the bed, and dragged him down with me. He moved awkwardly, one hand behind his back, as if hiding something. “Are you hiding something?”
“Yeah you are...” I pushed him down on the bed, trying desperately to take whatever that it was out of his hand. “Give it to me!”
“There isn’t anything though!” He looked around the room, mocking suspicion. I laughed, and continued trying to retrieve the unidentified object. “Wait!”
“What?” I let go of him, and moved back.
“I’ll give it to you, okay?”
“But I should explain first...” He paused, and readjusted how he was sitting, as if he was about to tell me a story. “Well, I love you. So much. And I want to prove that to you, and show it to you as much as possible. And I don’t want any of those times to get lost or forgotten, because I want them to mean a lot, like you do to me.” He stopped suddenly, as if he was looking for approval.
“I wanted to save those memories that you may have lost, and those tokens of love you may have forgotten. And well, I lied today. I didn’t work overtime. I didn’t even go to work. I went for a drive instead.”
I interrupted him before he could say anymore. “What? Why?”
“Well, it was for you. Because...There was something I had to get back. I took a drive far away, down to where I used to live. And I got out of my car, and found a path. I followed it, and it was clear and first, but then it got surrounded by thorns. I carried on anyway, until the path ended and I was in an area filled with fir trees. I didn’t stop there, though. I walked down, as the ground got more and more sloped, until I noticed something shimmering in the distance...”
“The lake? Why did you go there?”
“Let me continue. I walked over to it, this vast expanse of water, and I looked into it, and it was clear. And it brought back one of my memories of us together. And so, when I returned from there, I decided to bring the memory back with me. Close your eyes and hold your hands out.”
I did as he said. He placed something cold and shiny into them, and gently closed my hands around it. “You can open them now.”
I opened my eyes, and looking at what my hands were cradling. I opened them, and there, in my hands, was the necklace, the very one that I had carelessly dropped in the lake all those months ago. It was tarnished, and had a slight scratch on it, but apart from that it was exactly the same as when it had parted from me. “What? How?” I was speechless.
“I love you. I knew it meant a lot to you, so I thought I’d get it back. Do you like it?”
“I love it! You really are amazing sometimes! I can’t believe you’d do that for me!” I was almost crying at his sudden act of love towards me. “Thank you!”
I pulled him close to me, kissing him repeatedly, and then we settled down on the bed together, lying in each other’s arms until the room was filled with morning light. June really was an incredible month for me.