I found three little glossy hearts and one butterfly jewelry box today. Both of which were in my gigantic box of old stuff. It suddenly gave me an idea what to write about; and this is something I don’t really feel comfortable with; but looking at those memorabilia somehow made me smile and remember how I have finally accepted the thing called ‘past’.
Ely was my first boyfriend. I was probably 14 years old back then and he was 16. He gave me those three little glossy hearts (colors red, pink and yellow) one Valentine’s Day before we were officially together. It was in a wooden box with his signature in it and a huge heart with a ribbon outside and a small note inside saying how happy I made him feel when he was with me. That wooden box is broken now, but those three little glossy candy hearts flashed me back to that day when he asked my best friend that he wanted to meet me after school; then he stood there stammering in front of me with his little gift while I was anxiously smiling never knowing what to feel. He was always expressive about how he felt for me, and I guess we were both young then. I was his first girlfriend, he was my first boyfriend. The first time I ever felt what they called "the spark" or "chemistry". But like I said, when you're fifteen, there's so much yet to happen.
Jeb was another ex-boyfriend. The one who loved to pity himself "because he's nothing like Ely". They were friends too, from high school. The one who always felt like I'm up there and he was down somewhere. I got the butterfly jewelry box from him for our anniversary and my friends'd be like "What should you put in there? The anniversary necklace Ely gave you? LOL". He was a jealous young man, possessive and crazy. I liked him at first because he was natural, simple and loving; but he's left me too many bad memories that I even forgot the good ones. The first guy who stole everything from me. And then again, just another phase I got over with.
Looking back, I've had hundreds of crushes, but none of them I really got together with (or at least ended up together with). Seriously. I've had several suitors who tried and gave up, some even going beyond rejection; I've had annoying stalkers that got me at my wits end; had millions of love letters coming along: my desk, passed to friends, the class door, or even my own doorstep.. and some I kept and laughed about at present. My friends and other guys questioned me for my being. Am I real? Am I a big joke? What kind of guy do I want? Some girls and boys even wanted to call me a bitch.. 'cause it's either I get em all guys hoping, or I let em all get me. It's funny - because I never really cared about what they thought about. I know the truth about myself and there's no need for me to explain it to them. Besides, none of those filthy mouths were ever able to break me.
So it got me thinking...at the end of the day, it's not all about my standards but 'the spark'... When you see fireworks in one single kiss..when your heart beats thrice as fast.. and just last year I felt that again. I don't wanna talk sweet crap just because he's the man I'm together with right now. Also, I don't wanna end up eating my own words somewhen. And I really hope not, 'cause this guy is different. Never had someone so real like that, very down-to-earth; never been more open to anybody like the way I am to him right now; and never seen fireworks as beautiful as that when he kissed me. Right now, I just wanna embrace what we have; and what we share is something I treasure, it's something important to me.. as fragile as the heart that loves him.. and more precious than any gift I've ever received.
Alexander is his name. My friend and confidant, my German love. My funny Valentine.
