I looked at my watch again. She was late, as usual.
I sighed, bur somehow I didn’t feel so annoyed. She came running up to me, huffing for air by the time she’d wrapped her arms around me.
“I’m sorry”, she gasped, “for being late.” She pulled me down to the ground with her, and I waited until she could breath again.
When she look up at me, I was caught so off guard that I started blushing. She was looking at me… as if I were the only person she wanted to be with.
And I couldn’t help reciprocating the feeling.
Abruptly I stood up, momentarily confusing her and myself.
Why was my heart beating so fast? Why did I act so weirdly when I was around her?
If I did, she didn’t notice or chose not to comment.
She just held out her hand, so I could pull her up from the ground.
She gripped me into a bear hug, leaving me short out of breath this time.
The sound of her laughter and the smell of her hair resonated through me for the rest of the day.
When we were out in the open, nobody bothered us. It was when things were private that I began doubting myself.
Why would she be with me?
Why did she pick me, out of everyone else she could have?
No matter what I’d said to her the day before, or no matter how gruff my manner was, she’d just listen, and wait for me.
People get the wrong image of her most of the time.
They imagine her as someone who can’t protect herself, since she’s small and friendly. But she’s one of the strongest women I know.
She never lets anyone give her b*******, but she’s the first one to be compassionate to you if you’re having trouble.
“To me it doesn’t matter what kind of person you are, it just matters what things you choose to do. If you decide to judge one person, for any set of reasons, eventually you’ll find yourself excluding the world. And I don’t want to be the type of person who does that.”
I want to be like her sometimes. Open to trust people.
When I was younger, the only person I trusted to tell the truth was myself. My family was always putting on an act. For the first few years of my life, I thought I was living in the wrong household. Doubting my place among the people who should’ve been closest to me.
The situation left me with several emotional and physical grudges against people. It wasn’t until I’d met her, that I began to change.
Slowly, I found myself smiling out of the middle of nowhere, or humming a tune that I’d heard her singing the other day.
I wanted nothing more than to give her back what she gave to me.
Love is funny that way. I suppose.
When we lay next to each other, side by side, intertwining our fingers together, I let myself believe that we could somehow live in this moment forever.
Nothing’s permanent, but maybe this could be.
At least for now.
I’m the older one in the relationship, but I would be glad for her to be my mentor for as long as she’s willing to teach me.
She suddenly hugs me from behind, squeezing my waistline that is swathed in a dress she choose for me.
“What are you thinking about?” She asks me, leaning her head against my shoulder blades.
“Nothing.” I told her; glad I was facing away from her. I didn’t want her to see the embarrassing expression on my face.
“Just thinking about the cherry blossoms.”