I don’t think I’ve ever heard of something as foolish, as silly, as hackneyed, as love at first sight.

Oh sure, it’s a pretty set of words, I suppose. But pretty words often have ugly thoughts and meanings tied to them. It’s a wonder all the people alive today don’t drop down dead with all the pretty words that fly around this world every day. A complete mystery…

But I’m still living; I’m still breathing; I’m here to tell the truth.

The truth behind pretty words and love at first sight.

I’d never seen him before. Life was banal and dull and it seemed to pass as an old film plays over and over again on a faded screen of browning paper. I was a silly little girl who knew nothing of the real world. I thought only of stylish clothes and clichéd romance that
I could only dream of being bestowed upon me somewhere in my future.

I was a pathetic excuse for a human being. I was a teenage girl.

I remember sitting there with my friends; fawning over the attractive boys at school. Dreaming about one of them suddenly dashing out of the lunch line at school, bounding across the cafeteria, skidding to a halt before me and landing on one knee just to ask me to be his forever and ever more until the last sun set in this all too perfect fantasy world. I dreamed of romance as it is portrayed in all books, movies and songs. I dreamed the unreachable dream. And I was blind; blinded.

Blinded to all but that one guy (or perhaps a few) who could come and steal me away. But my shallow words and jokes laced with the sharpest edge couldn’t keep you away. You waited all this time for me to fall out of love. If that’s what it’s called, that is. Love.

He came waltzing into my life from a different part of the school; a delinquent with a dark, messy past. His eyes were the color of coal. They revealed nothing about him, except that he was cold; colder than anyone could ever imagine. His callous unfeeling heart could never be touched by anyone, let alone me. But it was that harsh exterior that made all the girls swoon even more over his perfect body, dashing intelligence and dreamy façade. I won’t lie; I did too. Of course I did; it was love at first sight.

And to think, this man whom I’d never seen before. Who I had not even spoken to, once could capture my attention so completely while you, who talked to me every day, could not capture my eyes for even a second while he was in the room.

I made it my number one goal, my only goal, to see him, to speak to him, to make him want me as I wanted him. To make him need me…because I needed him. That often happens, when it comes to love at first sight, wouldn’t you say?

And all that time, you just sat and watched me. Never once did you try to stop me. Because it was something like that, wasn’t it? Something like, love at first sight. Even though you were broken and hurting inside, you put on that stupid, goofy grin whenever you saw me. Not that I cared; after all, I only had eyes for him.

I remember the first time I met him, though I’ve tried to forget. He was sauntering down the hall, all too perfectly. He never had to try; all the girls were already in love. I dropped my book, flustered when he looked at me, and stumbled along on clumsy feet to retrieve it from amidst the busy walkway. And he was there. Like my angelic prince charming, he came to my rescue, handing me my book with a smirk. Only later would I come to realize what a trifle action it was.
But at the time, it could only stoke that flame within me that burned for one reason and one reason alone.

Love at first sight.

After that, I had an ounce of hope that perhaps we’d end up together. I dreamed of him even more and the small, short words we exchanged escalated to new heights as I traced their shallow meanings into my own shallow heart.

And all that time, I could never open my eyes.

I never saw him or you, for what you two really were. All this time; I had them mixed up in my superficial, beating heart.

And then things shot out of proportion. Maybe it was that bloody murder on the corner street, the incessant crying on those stone steps, the shouting, the fighting the screams of protest; all those pretty words lie broken on the floor as tears streamed down empty cheeks. He was never what he seemed to be was he? Did you know that?

Would you have stopped those pretty words, if you could?

Love at first sight is a meaningless action. To know is the first step to love and I’ll never forget it.

Did I love him?

That depends on the answer to one question, I suppose.

Did I ever really know you?