Firsts
Posted: Sat Jul 16, 2011 2:06 pm
There are a lot of firsts when you’re a teenager. First car. First school dance. First job.
First boyfriend. First date. First kiss. First love.
First real fight.
It was nothing. Silly really. Like most fights. A little fib. Not that important in the grand scheme of things. A tiny white lie. Well, not really a white lie, but it wasn’t an important lie. It wasn’t a big lie. It was just… a silly lie.
But it was a lie. And it was important to her. And the one thing Wyatt had promised… He would never lie to her.
She had no idea how long they sat and talked. Until near curfew, and they barely made it back to the dorms on time. There were angry words and melancholy words, wistful words and apologetic words. Accusations flew and tears fell. In the end, it was exhausting, just completely exhausting.
How can I trust you?
You can’t.
They walked back to the school in utter silence, neither saying one word to the other. At the dorm, the customary “good night” was missing, the farewell kiss was painfully absent. In her room, Lauren could only bury her head in her hands and wonder how it had all gone so horribly wrong.
All he wanted to know was what she was feeling. The problem was she was feeling betrayed. Only minutes before he had said she could trust him. Yet she was sure he had been dishonest with her just one day prior.
So what did she do? She could have let it go. Everybody lies. Nobody’s perfect. It was too lofty a promise, and it would be unrealistic to hold him to that. Instead, she confronted him. She felt like she was the betrayer for questioning him, and not even the vindication of his admission could make that feeling go away.
The clock was well on its way toward midnight when she gave up on trying to sleep. She got up to get her laptop, but simply stood with it in her hands. She wanted to put what she was feeling into words for Wyatt, but she didn’t think the computer was the right tool for the job. In an electronic age, writing letters by hand was so antiquated, but her dad taught her that writing a letter by hand is more personal and more real than email. “Intimate. It’s more intimate.” she thought.
She put the laptop away and returned to her bed with a pencil and a pad of paper. By the light of a small flashlight, with a handful of tissues by her side and hoping not to wake her roommate, she hunched over the paper and scratched out the words in her heart.
Dear Wyatt…
Drawing by Heroid aka Wyatt
First boyfriend. First date. First kiss. First love.
First real fight.
It was nothing. Silly really. Like most fights. A little fib. Not that important in the grand scheme of things. A tiny white lie. Well, not really a white lie, but it wasn’t an important lie. It wasn’t a big lie. It was just… a silly lie.
But it was a lie. And it was important to her. And the one thing Wyatt had promised… He would never lie to her.
She had no idea how long they sat and talked. Until near curfew, and they barely made it back to the dorms on time. There were angry words and melancholy words, wistful words and apologetic words. Accusations flew and tears fell. In the end, it was exhausting, just completely exhausting.
How can I trust you?
You can’t.
They walked back to the school in utter silence, neither saying one word to the other. At the dorm, the customary “good night” was missing, the farewell kiss was painfully absent. In her room, Lauren could only bury her head in her hands and wonder how it had all gone so horribly wrong.
All he wanted to know was what she was feeling. The problem was she was feeling betrayed. Only minutes before he had said she could trust him. Yet she was sure he had been dishonest with her just one day prior.
So what did she do? She could have let it go. Everybody lies. Nobody’s perfect. It was too lofty a promise, and it would be unrealistic to hold him to that. Instead, she confronted him. She felt like she was the betrayer for questioning him, and not even the vindication of his admission could make that feeling go away.
The clock was well on its way toward midnight when she gave up on trying to sleep. She got up to get her laptop, but simply stood with it in her hands. She wanted to put what she was feeling into words for Wyatt, but she didn’t think the computer was the right tool for the job. In an electronic age, writing letters by hand was so antiquated, but her dad taught her that writing a letter by hand is more personal and more real than email. “Intimate. It’s more intimate.” she thought.
She put the laptop away and returned to her bed with a pencil and a pad of paper. By the light of a small flashlight, with a handful of tissues by her side and hoping not to wake her roommate, she hunched over the paper and scratched out the words in her heart.
Dear Wyatt…
Drawing by Heroid aka Wyatt