"As you’re heading for the door he’ll grab your hand, turn you around and while looking..."

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As you’re heading for the door he’ll grab your hand, turn you around and while looking into your sorrow full eyes will tell you that he loves you. You won’t believe it at first but the way he touches you like he never wants you to go seems like enough convincing for a lifetime. So you stay, you go back to bed with him you use the rest of the time in the night to fuck each other like it’s the only way to apologize.

Have you ever noticed how sweet and sensitive everything is in the start of a new found interest? How everything around you looks like it’s been soaked in light and when you touch the skin of the one you’ve wanted for so long, it feels almost as safe as the way it does when you finally are in your bed after staying somewhere for a weekend. It’s always so dreamy in the beginning. It’s like being in your own personal film but you don’t need anyone in the audience because just his eyes on you is enough to make it feel like the entire stadium has been sold out just for this occasion. It’s always so tender when you explore someones body for the first time, with them exploring yours too. Like you were both made to go on this exploration and how right it finally feels that someone is finding new lands upon your skin. It’s always so beautiful in the beginning, always so ripe and raw and the only way time seems real is when you are spending time apart.

Not every love story that I have ever come across continues on in a hopelessly romantic way. Not every story where there is a conflict in the middle becomes resolved and the next day it’s happily ever after. I’ve seen so many love stories where the main character burns the pages before I can even find out what had happened to make it all fall apart. Not every love story is a story that you watch with envy because you wish someone would hold you like that, talk about you like that, fuck you like that, make you feel as if no one before you ever existed or came close. Not every love story is as beautiful as the resolution when they meet halfway on the Brooklyn bridge, run into each other in the street, see each other at a party that neither wanted to go to but had the obligation and everything that stopped them before will never stop them again because when it comes to love, who cares that he fucked another woman in the bed that you worked 2 weeks straight for. Because even though he was calling out the name of another woman, she was the one on his mind.

But there are some love stories though that I have read that still won’t end and every time I check to see how many pages I have left more appear because it’s not over until both are buried deep into the ground with their decaying bodies next to one another and even if they are no longer themselves they are somewhere with each other still in love because real love does not separate and real love does not mean until tomorrow morning or until I find someone new or someone who can give me every little thing that I want and have always desired because love is not about what you someone lacks but what you can make of it and how you can fill in those spaces with your own interpretation and still see that person as the person that you know you want to remain immortal with on those blank sheets of paper.

There are always two sides, two kind of endings and two ways a story can go. And as long as you go back and look at the characters that you only progressed with, grew with and did not see only one effort but two, then I think that’s a story worth remembering.

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- "I’m just waiting to begin my own," - Colleen Brown