Narrative Essay About Love

1453 Words 6 Pages
At 15 years old, I didn’t have any interest in boys. Throughout my childhood I would go to sleepovers with other girls from my class, and while they’d giggle at the pictures of the male models in Teen Vogue and gossip about the latest boys that they’d been smitten with, I would sit on the side and absolutely infuriate them during games of Truth or Dare. The question was always the same. “Come on Delaney, you’ve gotta tell us! Who do you like?”
Naturally, answer was always the same too. I’d offer a half-hearted shrug and a glance to the side. “I’m just friends with boys. I don’t really feel like I need to date them.”
That was why Mike was so important. Mike was the first boy that I’d ever loved. Mike felt like a bit of an outlier. He was
…show more content…
Most didn’t pay him any mind at all. As for me, I thought he was perfect.
It had started as a simple friendship. We sat next to each other in band and English. He didn’t mind talking to me about my strange taste in Irish music, and I didn’t mind sharing my homework answers before class. He would come over to my house where we would listen to Frank Sinatra and play video games together. Mike was a nice boy. It was a nice friendship. But after a few months I began to experience feelings that I had never noticed
…show more content…
I was the fat kid in high school. No one wants to get that close to you when you’re the fat kid. Realizing this, I had determined that what I had been feeling was none other than love.
I’d decided to tell him. Whereas every other girl would mope and complain that their particular dreamboat hadn’t yet swept them off their feet and asked them to go steady, I chose a much more direct approach. I would let him know how I felt.
I remember the day so clearly. It was raining, and we sat in my mom’s car while she ran into the post office to drop off a package. “Mike?” I blurted out in a rushed panic, just loud enough to be heard over the plopping of rain drops atop the car.
“Yessum?” He replied cheerfully, grossly unaware of the weight of my next question.
I began to tremble and briefly began to reconsider my proposal. But my feelings were too strong to allow it. I spit out my feelings as coherently as I could. “Mike, do you want to… Go out… With me?”
There was a pause. I waited patiently; a nervous smile worked its way across my lips as I awaited what was supposed to be a definite yes. But the reaction on his face resembled more that of confusion and remorse than that of the unbridled agreement that I had

Related Documents