www.whyville.net Jun 13, 2016 Weekly Issue



glazensk8
Guest Writer

A Secret

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Many people in life carry a secret; some are big and some are small. I too carry a secret, one that for quite a while I never spoke about. Many of my close friends and relatives understand why I have chosen to never speak about it. When my (then) boyfriend passed away, it took a toll on me. He truly opened my eyes and changed my perspective on not only love, but life. Before him, I was very disrespectful - not because I wanted to be, but because I didn't see the need to interact with others. I carried a mindset that I brought nothing but disappointment and therefore, didn't deserve the joys life offered. He carried such a strong wave of energy that it nauseated me at first, but quickly grew into the trait I've grown to admire the most.

Verner would push me to try to new things and would go out of his way to do so and I can't thank him enough for showing me the beauty in our world. I always claimed night gazing was cliche, but after laying in his truck late at night, I realized why many people enjoy it - it's breathtaking. At the time, I thought to myself that the way the stars illuminated against the dark sky fit the way Verner radiated my life. It was the first time I had not only felt content in the presence of somebody else, but content with myself for being able to admire something for the first time. Seeing him lay there with his arms behind his head, rambling on about how he wants to see the world struck a nerve in me. How could somebody want that? The world is filthy and violent. But the way his amber eyes looked into mine with so much passion in them, I realized I wouldn't mind traveling with him so long as I woke up next to him and his "sunset orbs" (the lame nickname I had given him). Quickly, I grew fond of him. I studied German to know more about his culture and to communicate with him easier although quite frankly, he spoke better english than I did. Verner's smile was so illuminating, my cousin would often joke that the sun had competition and to this day,nothing compares to it. Put simply, we were two teenagers madly in love and I finally understood what having a blessing felt like. It didn't matter to me all the backlash I got from people that claimed I didn't deserve him - that he was too good for me. My problems would go away simply by being with him.

I am in love with him.

Down the road, he got diagnosed with prostate cancer. There's nothing in the world to describe the heartbreak I felt at that moment. We promised each other to go sight seeing and grow old together, to bake with our future kids and watch them grow up before our eyes. We kept telling ourselves it wasn't bad and our love could pull through for us because "love conquers", despite him given a time expectancy.

After a few months, I lost him. I couldn't react as his mom cried on me telling me the news. It was her only child taken too soon; I didn't think I had the right to feel anything. I couldn't react as I saw his body lying in the coffin, his sunset orbs hidden behind shut eyelids. It wasn't until his casket was being lowered that it kicked in - my love would no longer be with me. I'm not able to see his dorky smile, smile at his goofy laugh, run my hands between his silky hair or wrap my arms around his sun kissed tan and tippy toe to kiss him goodnight. I wouldn't be able to travel the world with the only one I have ever wanted to do so. I was in no position to run to his casket and bawl but I couldn't help it. I remember hearing everyone talking about me, referring to me as the poor girl. But why me? Poor girl to the mother who lost her baby, poor boy to the father who didn't have the chance to see his kid play soccer, poor boy to the one who offered so much positive energy but was taken away too soon. But there I was, clinging on to a box that stood between my everything. The one person that showed me what it was like to enjoy even the small things in life, to enjoy conversations and share laughter with others, to try new things and never give up. I told myself this is why I didn't deserve joy in life - everything comes to an end. For long, I never spoke about him. I acted as if he didn't exist. I lost my first love to cancer and that is my secret.

It has taken me years to cope, but finally I am able to do things in memory of him. I am able to listen to people's problems like he did with me, I am able to travel to places for him, I am able to try things he would have loved to, and I am able to continue living for him. I made a promise to him before he passed that I would not let his death stop me from showing my full potential and although I at the time didn't believe I had any - I now see that I do.

I am now enlisting and on to studying to become a neurosurgeon and I do it in memory of my first love and I know that he's above me, watching me and taking care of not only me, but my boyfriend in combat.

 

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