Like in the Movies

Two weeks.

It took two weeks for me to remove myself from the feelings I thought I felt for you. There are times when I still think about you or accidentally think your name out of habit. Yet, I don’t think that I truly loved you because how can you love someone who never cared for you in the same way you cared for them? The answer is you can’t. Love in it’s most true form is caring and being there for someone and receiving the same from them. You never gave me anything I truly needed or what I truly wanted.

By two weeks, I had found someone new. Or rather, not someone new but someone who was hidden in the shadow you had cast over me and once you were gone I could finally see who truly cared for me. He was the first friend I could admit to that you broke my heart and that I was drowning in loneliness. He told me that I was going to be just fine and that I was a strong, beautiful woman and that everything will work out. It was impulse but I wanted to be next to him, to hold his hand. I kissed him at a fair—a fair, you never would’ve gone to with me—just a small peck but it turned to something more. I became more spontaneous. I had a small get-together at the house when my parents weren’t home. People smoked, people ate chips and pop, I made-out with him in my garage. I didn’t think of you once that night. And I stayed up all-night, driving and laughing with him about the future. And the possibility of a future between him and I.

Another week passed and I didn’t cry on the anniversary of when you tore us up, in fact, I went on a date. I let everything I wanted to do: happen. Never did I stop to think about how my mother wouldn’t like how I was acting. Staying out until 2 a.m. watching movies at the drive-in and kissing him until my mouth was swollen and my neck was bruised. His eyes seemed to intoxicate me in ways you never could. His hands never grew cold on me and that was the first night I learned how love is really shown. Now I know how love is supposed to be and how it’s supposed to feel when you are with them. That night we confessed how we felt about each other with our words and with our kisses. Since that night we have seen each other everyday.

A month since you let me go, there I was lying in his room holding him as close as I could, listening to love songs and wearing the reading socks he bought for me. He’s treated me better in three weeks than you did in six months, and I thank god everyday that you broke up with me. His room is where my heart lives these days. I think I know his room better than I know the homework that I keep procrastinating. In fact, I study him more than any homework any teacher has ever given me. When I go home he’s the homework I do.

On the fifth week without you, I was free. I was finding a part of myself I didn’t know was there. And he was there for each step I took. It’s so rewarding to find something about yourself, you never knew was there. His support in my growth has made me extremely confident in myself and our new budding relationship. I’m more than ready for anything he throws at me now.

Sixth week in, and you were back in my life for a brief amount of time. You wouldn’t acknowledge our past, or me for that matter. You didn’t even try to be my friend like you said you would. That’s fine but remember it was you who told me to move on and find someone better. That’s what I’ve done and you can’t be petty about it. You just don’t like who it is I’m with now. You don’t like to think he’s better than you but he is. He’s 110% better for me than you. He makes me feel comforted and safe. He sees my inner beauty. He means a lot to me and you’ve slowly faded from heart and you are almost all gone. All that’s left is your damn sweater I still have hiding in the back of closet. I’m ready to give it back.

Now it’s the seventh week. And I’m not just some "high school girlfriend" to him and he’s not just a boy to me. No, we have plans in the far future. We want to travel together. We want to be together in the future. I’ve met his immediate and extended family at his father’s wedding. If that doesn’t scream serious, I don’t know what does. I never feel happier than when I’m his arms. I dedicate my heart to him and my love to his heart.

I love you.

Yes, you. Not the one who broke my heart but you, the one who held my hand as I cried. You have forged yourself onto my heart and branded my heart as yours. Whether you knew what you were doing or not, you did it. And here I am. In love with you. Thanks for being patient in the shadows while I tried to figure things out and while I made those mistakes that eventually led me to you. It only took me two years to figure it out.

All the memories we’ve been making together have been better than any single memory I’ve made in the past four years of high school put together. Cliche as some of those memories are, I don’t mind. It’s like a teen romantic comedy movie and it’s you that makes my life this way. You are the touch of Hollywood in my life.

So let’s make as many memories as possible—just like in the movies.