The Feeling
Wednesday, August 28, 2013 at 2:56PM
I’m not sure what to call it or how to describe it; whatever it was I was feeling that day. This baffles me because I have something to say about everything. This though, this is something very unfamiliar to me. I’m convinced it was a good feeling though. That feeling I had the day I met the girl who turned my life around.
She has that sweet country accent you could only get in the South. She has unending spirals of beautiful blond hair. It’s a kind of dirty blond though. It’s curly to the point that you can hardly brush it; it’s so tangled with curls. She tries to tame it but it’s not very cooperative, other than the tangles she keeps it soft and smelling sweet. She will spend time signing to me when I’m upset; her voice smooth and soft. Every word of every song she uses to tell me how much she cares for me; things she isn’t yet ready to say.
Around me she wasn’t afraid to be silly. She wasn’t afraid to make faces or to dream. She would smile her big smile; brightly and freely. I loved that smile. She hated it. She was always trying to hide those gnarly chompers of hers but they weren’t as bad as she made them sound. The way she described them you’d think that she had five teeth all pointing different directions. It wasn’t like that though. As the corners of her lips turned up into a smile, her face began to give off light and her eyes began to sparkle. I swear anyone seeing it could feel the warmth of her smile rushing through their body. When she smiled like that she wasn’t weighed down by a worry in the world but, that was around me.
Around other people she had her guard up without a moment of weakness. It was as if letting her guard down meant the end of the world and it did; the end of her world anyway. She needed to have this tough exterior; something nearly impossible to break through. This way no one could ever see or know of the deep, sickening, numbing, hatred for herself they made her feel. That’s why I told her every day or rather tried to tell her this feeling she gives me, this difference she’s made. There are 26 letters in the alphabet – these letters form thousands of thousands of words that form an endless amount of sentences. I have tried and try as I might, no combination seems to fit for this thing I am experiencing, and no combination seems to describe her. But she has to know that she matters. She has to know people care.
I remember the first time I said it to her; anything close to enough. She sunk into the couch the smell of leather distinct. I lay across three of the cushions my skin brushing against the smooth fabric. My head was resting in her lap, the curves of my body like rolling hills. The light from the screen in front of us is projected onto us; our colors changing along with the rapid changes on the screen. She smirks as she relieves herself of the smart-mouthed comment she has been waiting to remark about the drama going down in front of us. We both began to giggle. Her smiles, eyes and laugh all at once became too much for me and I didn’t mean to but it came out: “I love you.” As soon as I said it I wish I could take it back, because a strange mix of emotions crossed her face. It was one I couldn’t read. I realize that look of shock and contentment when I see it now, but then I thought I’d done something terribly wrong. Until she bent down and softly kissed my forehead, her lips were soft and sweet and then she whispered in my ear, “good.” I giggled because the whisper tickled my ear; her breath smelled of light mint toothpaste. That’s when I felt my cheeks get hot and I turned away. All she said was “good”?
She brought my eyes back to hers, smiling slightly deviously. In the darkness of the room with the light of the screen I saw her every imperfection, but in them is everything that made her perfect. I had just come to that realization when she finished her thought: “I love you, too.” In that moment, I knew I was hers and something – maybe the vague nausea in my stomach, or my gut, or the tugging in my heart – told me that I was hers, too. That was when I realized I never want it to go away – the feeling. The feeling that I was safe, that she cared, that I was loved.
By Cameron
