I DIDN’T know why I fell in love. Maybe I was naive, maybe I was just trying to reach him – even though I knew it was an impossible task to do. Yet I did, and like Utada Hikaru said, you will always be my first love.
He was 17, around 170cms tall and black was his favourite colour. He used to wear black shoes, black pants, white t-shirt and black jacket with its collar trimmed in white fur. He even wore black gloves. His hair was a little bit brown, and he was, what they called, a very good looking guy.
So sad but true, he would never lay his eyes on me. He was far too famous to do that, and his cold, blue eyes reminding me of my unreached love.
I was nine, and I had fallen in love.
I tried to go inside his life, but he wouldn’t let me. When he sat down on one of those stairs, alone, I could see his painful past. I wanted to know about his life. I wanted to heal his broken wounds. Yet I could only stare at him from far, for he would not let me in.
Even though he was being nominated as the coldest person by his friends, he was also the most trusted one. Being one of the youngest in his group, he was appointed as the leader. He never showed it, but I knew, deep down, he cared so much about his friends.
Later I found out that he didn’t want to be attached to anyone. Not didn’t, but he couldn’t. His past reminded him that eventually the people closest to him would have to leave him behind, and he wouldn’t want to paint the scar one more time.
Then finally, she came.
She was a cute girl, at the same age as him. She had a black, medium-length hair and she was the life of the party. She was the total opposite of him – an honest, kind-hearted girl, with a beautiful smile.
He met her at a ball, and she asked him to dance. I still remembered the fact that he couldn’t dance, but learned it the hard way, of course, to impress the girl. Then I saw a look that I would not forget – a curious, warm look that he never had in years.
She lifted him up; she helped him to ease the pain; and she taught him how to live. I silently sighed in relief, well, at last, he had found someone.
Yet being a guy with such high pride, he messed up a couple of times. I didn’t know whether to be happy or sad, but I knew, deep down inside his heart, he wanted her to to be a part of him. He just didn’t know how to communicate. He just didn’t want the possibility of her going away.
But one day, she was gone.
It was not her fault, the situation demanded it. He convinced himself that he just simply didn’t care, but I guessed he had learned his lessons. If he wanted her back, he had to earn it. And that was what he did, he brought her back, saying, “I’ll be here. If you come here, you’ll find me. I promise.”
I caught them standing at the balcony the other day, just looking at the stars. Suddenly a star fell down, and she smiled towards him. He didn’t put a mask anymore. He smiled back, the most heart-melting smile I had ever seen, and I knew, he had found his fairy-tale ending. It was time for me to find mine.
I kissed him goodbye, and left.
Happy birthday, Squall Leonheart, August 23.