Give Me Love

It was a typical Thursday afternoon. The sky was a bright blue, and the snow on the ground was fresh. I had met you at school after a 2-hour train ride to the other side of the city. I ran a little late, but you waited for me anyway. You kissed me when you saw me, and your cheeks were a bright red because of the cold. We took the bus to your house, and we both knew that this ride was different. I made small talk, and you looked at me in the moment, and I could tell that you only had eyes for me. We sat on that bus hand in hand, not wanting to let each other go for any reason with the fear that, if we did, we would lose each other forever. When we got to your house, we dropped all our baggage on the floor. We finally felt light. At sixteen years old, we had already felt the world on our shoulders. I followed you upstairs to your room, already knowing where this was going. The window in your room had the sheer blinds down, but the sun was so strong that we didn’t even have to turn the awful fluorescent lights on to see each other. You spoke to me in a soft voice. You were almost afraid that I would shatter if your voice rose an octave higher. I turned on the music. The sound of the guitar filled the room. I laid in your bed, admiring the vibrato of the vocals in the song. I imagined if love is truly just begging for love. Give me love, you gave me love. You whispered in my ear, you asked if I was sure. I have never been more sure about anything in my life. We kept our clothes on. Our pants around our ankles, shirts half lifted, and our mouths never leaving each other. I thought, this was what love really is. When we finished, I felt my heart race. I hugged you, and told you how much I loved you. I felt connected to you, and I felt my whole world feel complete, as if this is all I needed to survive.  It was a typical Thursday afternoon. The sky was a bright blue, and the snow on the ground was fresh.


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