I Believe In The Power Of Love
A/N This is a true story about something that happened in my life, and it is a sensitive subject for me. (isn't it for everyone?) Please be kind and review.
I believe in the power of love.
It sounds stupid, I know. Like some cheesy Huey Lewis and the News song. But it's true. Why do you think there are so many songs, movies, plays, and poems about it? Love is something anyone can relate to. Even I've felt love in my short, insignificant teenage life.
I've known Erik forever. He's been my best friend for years. Before, mmy immature mind had imagined us "going out", but I didn't think much of it. I thought it would be too weird. Besides, I had this other 6th grade boy that I thought I was crushing on instead. But now I know better.
About a year ago, something happened in my lfie that altered my relationships with my friends, my self-confidence, and my entire way of thinking. I began to suffer from depression. The only person that helped me, held my hand through this difficult time, was Erik.
He did it because he was my friend, but I felt something spark, something ignite in me when I realized it. He was the only one who understood me completely, who I dared to talk to when I was on the verge of a breakdown. He was the only one I could imagine knowing for the rest of my life. He was a rare find, a true friend.
And I was in love with him.
Now this is the place where the logical me comes in:
What's the matter with you? Have you gone insane? You're not going to love this kid forever! You're only a child. He can't love you back, anyway. You're setting yourself up for disaster! Go find a nice, strong, guy and forget about Erik!
Now, see. Let the power of love amaze you.
I could not handle dating other guys. Perfect, sweet, strong guys who other girls swooned over asked me out. ME! I accepted, experimenting, trying to cure this strange form of insanity that I felt myself victim to. But, I could not be with another person without feeling overwhelming guilt for betraying my best friend.
Erik will most likely never know this, because I will most likely never tell him. Never tell him how I've waited for a year for the chance that never came, how I turned down perfect, handsome guys for him. About the rush of joy and flood of despair I get whenever someone says his name. He will never be able to handle the truth.
But, as the stupid, insane girl I am, I wait.