For this entry I wrote a shortened version of a longer story I wrote about finding love in your life. Let me know what you think!
I am convinced that Derek and I were meant to be long before I figured it out. I am not sure how he knew, but from the second he spotted me he made it clear that he would make me his. After nights of back-to-school shopping and lots of telephone conversations, he stated with an almost comical authority that soon we would be dating.
My boyfriend at the time was nice. His name is Cody, the same name as the surfer on my favorite TV show. When I met him I was overwhelmed with his impressive collection of honors and awards. Best looking in his class, homecoming king, captain of the football team. I liked the idea of him so much that I did everything in my power to make us click.
Derek, on the other hand, was completely unreachable. Two years older, attended college in Virginia, seven hours away. His award to show was class procrastinator. He was the class clown in high school; played forward for the soccer team but more often skipped out. I disliked the idea of him, but I couldn’t help but realize that we clicked.
I was left with the decision between star athlete and class procrastinator. But there was something about Derek that I couldn’t help but be excited about. The way he looked at me when he was unlocking the door, getting out of my car on a hot summer day. The cowlick on the right side of his hairline. And there was something bigger- a deeper connection that I, to this day, cannot put my finger on.
“Alyssa I forgot my CD in your car, can you come drop it off?”
I rolled my eyes, not surprised by his spontaneous phone call. I pondered his question for a few minutes. I was leaving for tennis camp the next morning and wasn’t sure I had time. But it would only take two minutes. And I otherwise wouldn’t get the chance to see him before I left. As I pulled in the driveway, I saw Derek waiting on the front step. I stepped out of the car, his CD in hand. He walked over, took the CD, and tossed it right into the garbage pail.
“What did you do that for?!” I said in exasperation, staring at the garbage in disbelief as I heard the CD clunk against each side.
“I knew it was the only way I’d be able to get you here,” he said, laughing. “Let’s go talk.”
I wish I could write a story that includes every moment: not only the ones of confusion, stress, tears over my decision, the many tactics I used to stall and search for an easy way out, but also the moments of pure innocent happiness and untouchable love that came from the action of risking it all.
When I decided to break things off with Cody, it had been two months. The only thing I can say I walked away with was the fan he gave me as a one-month anniversary gift. It stands at the foot of my bed today. I knocked on his newly painted white door amidst the quiet, desolate cul-de-sac. The look on his face was unreadable. He led me up the familiar steps to his bedroom. The only part of his house I had come to know. I sat down on the comfortable bed that I considered staying with him for. It’s really the little things. I looked at the ceiling and told him in the most confusing, muddled way possible that I liked Derek. I didn’t dare glance up at his reaction until several minutes of silence had passed. Once I gathered the courage to look into his eyes, they were clouded. I had never made a boy cry before. That I knew of. He opened his mouth to say something, and then closed it. I was not sure if I wanted to know.
“I love you,” he mumbled. He was looking straight into my eyes, waiting for my response. And I lied.
“You too,” I said, staring intently at the ceiling. And in that moment I wanted more than anything to make him happy again. For him to stop crying, for him to grab my cheeks again and tickle me until I was begging for mercy, tangled in the comforter. I did not think about my own happiness, about the decision I had decided to make and then abruptly taken back. I thought about glossing over the problem, putting it off for a later point in time. I frantically called to mind the qualities I liked in him. His homecoming king trophy. His picture in the yearbook.
And I caved. For another month I dealt with his qualities that I hated. I dealt with being called sweetie every 10 seconds of my life. I dealt with his annoying habit of eating with his mouth open and chasing his “kitty” around the house. I lied often, mostly to myself.
But I was upset. More upset than rational for a girl with a boyfriend who was captain of the football team. I fret over my current situation until I realized that Cody and I were finished. The day that I had attempted to break up with him, he had asked me to do him one favor. Only stay in it if I was willing to give 100 percent. So I broke it off for good. I have not regretted it since.
Because of that decision, instead of gritting my teeth each time Cody asked me to pet kitty with him, fake smiling through moments that he considered exceptional, lying to make him believe that I felt the exact same way as he did, I spend my time with Derek.
I spend my time baking rocky road shortbread cookies with him. Even though every batch comes out horrible in its own way, we dance around the kitchen to Christmas music because it is November and we are too in love to care. We try to watch movies but become too distracted by each other to watch more than half. I spend my time playing DDR with his sister while he makes fun of me and pinches my leg from the couch. We lie in bed and laugh about something no one else would ever laugh about until my stomach hurts and he is too tired to pick his head up. He makes me a plate of the best junk food that is the most calories and spends 20 minutes arranging them in a pretty order. If only the paper plate were prettier. If only anything on the plate could compare to him in the smallest way.
He sits and watches me taste test every item and interviews me about my feelings toward each. He pays attention to my every detail until he cannot take it but to tickle me till my empty plate falls to the dorm floor.
I figured out that in my life, that is what love is. The product of listening to my heart instead of my mind. Admittedly, he’s not perfect. Sometimes he stumbles and sometimes he forgets. He takes jokes too far and winds up apologizing. But he makes me happy. Love is what came of risking perfection to experience perfect happiness.
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