'The Tiger Conquers Gazelle'
I once had a significant other, like most others, but unlike most others, I still believe that she is always going to be the one who got away. It isn't because of her, but because of me for why we are no longer together. There are still days when she comes to mind, but it doesn't hurt as much anymore. Every time that she does come to mind, I keep thinking of the same thing over and over.
We were sitting across from one another during our lunch period. The conversation ran dry, and so we were just staring at each other in awkward silence. I was the first to break away from looking to grab my notebook that I wrote all my writings in and a pencil. I didn't know what to write now how to write anything that came to mind. Therefore, I sat there in a loop tapping the pencil against my face in a bored manner. She noticed rather quickly the boredom that I was going through and said, "Why don't you write about us? Call it 'The Tiger Conquers Gazelle'." She came up with the title by using the nicknames that we gave each other. She was the Tiger and I was her Gazelle. It was always fun to talk to her and it was always enjoyable being around her, but I just couldn't write about her, nor us. It was difficult. Every time I would start to write about us, it sounded like it was coming from a split version of us and thus the difficulty of the writing resulted. I didn't want to write about us as though we broke up and I'm reminiscing what was. I wanted to write about how happy we made each other, but when I really thought about it from a psychological standpoint (which is how I wrote a lot of my writings back then), we only had a mask of happiness on. When we ran out of things to talk about, our masks came off and we weren't happy anymore. We would force ourselves onto one another to try to put the masks back on, but I slowly back this act. I wanted there to be more emotion, not just blind happiness. I wanted to have a down so the high would be better; however, I never thought that my down would end it all.
After that, the writing got easier. It became less painful to write about because it became more true. I was falling out, and we both kinda knew that it wasn't going to last all that much longer. We just needed something to split the final string, to break us apart and that thing was our half year milestone of being together. It finally separated a whole into two broken pieces that would eventually heal back, but I know that when the split occurred, she took a part of me, and I took a part of her. I took her emotions, and she took all my love. While we were broken halves of a whole, we were lost and it hurt. I seemed to heal faster than she did, but once she started to heal, her healing was exponential and mine slowly faded away.
Now the writing of 'The Tiger Conquers Gazelle' is easy. My heart doesn't pound with sharp stinging pain anymore. My eyes down become a river for my emotions and my thoughts are not haunted by scenes filled with fear of losing her. Instead my heart my calm, my eyes are dry and my thoughts were already taken over awhile ago.
I haven't written much of 'The Tiger Conquers Gazelle', but I do have the beginning. I wanted to share it with all of you, because for some reason, I don't have the ability to continue it.
"I remember the day that I asked you out. You were standing at your locker that was at the corner. Your locker number was 2142 mine was 2400, you were just down the hall from me. The morning bell had just rang and we had to get to homeroom before we ever got into trouble. Five minutes remained before then. You were wearing a lovely grey shirt that was super soft to the touch. We walked together all that morning. We couldn’t stop smiling at each other. Our eyes interlocked many times. What color were they again? Three minutes remain. You are swiftly gathering your belongings together, dreading the day to come; however, you did not expect me to turn you around, hold your hand in mine and said, “Will you be my girlfriend please?” Please? Who says please? I felt as though I was begging. All you did was smile, laugh and hugged me saying “yes” overly excited. I remember how your body looked as the only light to hit it was the moonlight. It conformed to your curves perfectly. You’re swift movement as you walked. I remember how you used to laugh at the idiotic things I said, or at least at all the times I tried using more intellectual words rather than simpler words trying to make myself seem smarter to you. You used to laugh at almost every paragraph that I said. Where did that joy go? I remember meeting your whole mother’s side of the family. Twice actually. Once on our very first time together when you invited me over for dinner. Your mother had made homemade fried chicken. Man was that amazing! I wonder how she felt as I told my entire life story to her in just under five minutes. When I met your family, you invited me over to decorate your tree. I still have pictures of that night, but it doesn’t look the same. Warped perhaps. I met your uncle, loved him. We talked about some cars and what I was thinking about doing later on in my life. I think he made fun of me a couple of times, but I shoved that aside. Later that night, everyone was leaving, but you and I stayed awake watching Rudolph. Well at least, you stayed awake. I fell asleep a couple of times while watching. The other time that I met your mother side of the family was for Easter sunday, which I evidently ruined because I left unnoticed. I made a search party come out for me. I wasn’t used to the family, it was too much for me and I had to leave. I remember our date to Friday’s. It shocked you as I told you originally that I was bringing you home. However, I drove the wrong way and brought you to dinner with me. Gave you two roses, one for me and one for you to symbolize us. You cried you were so surprised. Our waitress didn’t like us. We were having so much fun throwing little rolled up pieces of paper from the straws that we received. There was a mess everywhere but we had fun. I remember the end too. I remember April 30th was our final day. I cried for weeks after that. I remember sitting in my room with the notes that you gave me, rereading them, hearing your voice read them to me in my head. I never wanted it to end. I kept onto those letters for two more years. Before I finally left, I returned to you all that you have given me in a bag in my locker. I remember not having enough time to see you to tell you once more how I really felt even after years from our end. I had to tell our mutual friend to give you instructions to get everything that you gave me from my locker. A couple of framed photos of us that you gave me on my birthday. Almost a dozen notes that we wrote each other with slight smudging from being looked at too often. A worn out blue button down shirt that you always threatened to take from me. All of those items were in that bag. All I wanted was one last look upon your face. I remember you making me promise you that you wouldn’t become one of the Faceless exes. The Faceless are those that I can remember the names and actions, but not the faces of. I remember everything from our relationship, but when I try to look back at all of that now, I cannot remember what your face looks like. I cannot remember what colors your eyes were that drew me in. I cannot remember what your lips looked like, nor can I remember the feeling of your lips to mine. I cannot remember your cute nose that I used to bop with my fingers to get your attention or to show my affection towards you. I cannot remember, but now I’m not so sure that I want to remember."