A lasting memory

On a very late night in January, I was naked with only a blue striped blanket covering me. In the room of the only boy I had ever fallen in love with. I felt cold, it hurt down there and I was bleeding.

We tried to sleep together, but it was my first time and despite my confidence I was not ready. Midway it started to hurt so bad I started crying, he stopped then, I said I was sorry.
He helped me sit back up and gave me a warm towel, I put it down there.

I apologized for being so weak. I apologized for ruining this night for both of us. I felt so guilty I wanted to disappear. He said it was ok. That it’s normal to hurt the first time. There was nothing that we could've done about it. That it wasn’t my fault. I thought he was so kind.

The moon was blue and bright. It illuminated the room piercing the balcony window. The light shone on him, glistening on his tall slender figure at the edge of the bed. It was like looking at the tranquil ocean. The light didn’t even touch me.

He got up suddenly I thought he had enough of my sobbing but he said to wait for him a bit. That he will be back in a ziffy. He left the room, I was left alone with my thoughts.

I wanted this, this was my idea, then why couldn't I go through with it? Why was I so weak? Everyone got through it somehow yet here I am, with the only I person I could think of to go through this pain with……
What was I going to do when I will have no one around me?

He came back soon after. My heart jumped out when I heard the door creak thinking it could’ve been his mother, or his little brother. But it was him, on his hand a ice cream parfait. He carefully closed the door and quickly sat in front of me. He scooped up some parfait and told me to open my mouth. I didn’t think of anything and simply did as I was told. He put the scooped up parfait in my mouth. It was delicious. I said it was so.

He smiled a bit, but then he sighed and looked dejected. He looked up at the moon from the balcony window and then again at me. He said he didn’t want this memory to be a bitter one for me. He wanted it to be something I could look back on and smile. He apologized that it wasn’t anything special and that it was the only one he could think of. I wish I could have put it in words what I had wanted to say.

He slowly kept feeding me the parfait. I was crumbled up in the blanket and felt so cold, but with each spoon of the cold parfait, I felt ever so warmer. The parfait was nothing different, but it was the most delicious thing I’ve ever then and since. It was as if it filled my heart than my belly. It made me forget I was aching and bleeding. He ate a spoon or two himself, and sometimes he would just stop and look at me, then he would kiss me softly. His lips were cold and sweet. He kissed me twice, once on the lips and once on the cheek. As long as the parfait was there on the cup everything was perfect, as long as there was parfait, everything felt just right.

He said his mom made two, one for him and one for his little brother. He knew the little brother would eat it while he wasn’t looking. He waited for it so that he could have something over him. He giggled as he told me how mischievous he was. I listened intently. I didn’t say anything, I just wanted to hear him talk.

It was getting late. I started to dress up. He looked the other way. I was glad I felt disgusted of my own body. When I was ready we jumped back down from the balcony. I wanted to go back alone but I knew he wouldn't let me. How could I tell him it would only make it harder for me? I was so glad after all.

He walked me home, hand in hand that night. His hands were so big but he had such slender fingers, so long, but ended stubby. I thought about it all the way home. He wore only a T-shirt and a shirt on top of it, I wonder if he was cold?

We stood in front of the doorway of the house I’ve always hated. He looked at me with such kind eyes, I wish I could've escaped in it. If it was in his arms, I thought, I could even sleep in the streets. He wished me a good night and said he should be in his way. I stared at him almost begging him with my eyes to stay. But what would that achieve.

He was about to turn around and I leapt at him. I hugged him tight. He stood there a bit shocked before he wrapped his arms around me too. I almost started crying again trying to tell him I’m sorry. He said if I apologized again he would get mad. I tried my best to stop.

He slowly let me go, still holding on to my arms. I thought how handsome he looked with his slight feminine face. How graceful even his unkept hair looked. If he said anything at that moment I would've done it. Is this what they meant by being under a spell?

He kissed me on my forehead and ran away. The road was small and soon I didn’t see him past the walls. Maybe he had tons of things he wanted to say too. Things he couldn't put into words, things he know he shouldn't say. I wondered if I stood here long enough will he know. Will he run right back to me? If so, then what? Tomorrow I’ll be gone, I’ll get to leave this place I hate so much. Maybe tomorrow I’ll thank him properly or maybe I’ll stumble and fall again. If you run, you gain one. If you move forward, you gain two. But I’m not sure which way is which anymore.