The value of something before you have it is so great. Your heart aches for it, your body works for it, your mind longs for it. The value of something while you have it is a steady decline. You’re grateful, but your body stops working for it. Your heart appreciates it, but no longer aches for it. A day without it doesn’t seem so unfeasible anymore. Your mind drifts other places, allowing other things to take precedence. The value of something after you’ve lost it is indescribable. Your heart yearns for it, wishing that you could have seen the value while you had it. Fear consumes your body, for you are unsure if you’ll ever obtain something quite as golden again.
The value of the love shared between Jonas and I is one that I’m afraid I’ll never feel again. His curly short hair moved slightly with the breeze, never displacing a curl. His moss-colored eyes held a million tiny universes within them, though he’d never allow anyone into them—that its, anyone besides me. What began as a conversation about school lunch, politics, or even my younger sister blossomed into a philosophical soliloquy, one which I would have never tuned out of before his trip to Austria.
Before we had officially labeled ourselves as a couple, Jonas was the most whimsical person I had ever met. He’d show up randomly at my house, candy in hand, and just stand outside until I noticed him outside my window.  He’d envelope me in his cologne laced puffy coat, the one he wore regardless of the season. Jonas would rather sweat through the jacket than take it off. He’d say the perfect amount—not too much, not too little—and then zoom off in his old beat up Toyota. His parents were rich as hell, but he had decided on a car that cost a third of his budget—something I loved dearly about him.
When Jonas asked me out it was spontaneous and completely unplanned. Lying there on his bed, my shirt halfway over my head, he blurts out, “God, you’re beautiful. You’ve got to be my girlfriend.”
His raspy words slid through my body and I let out a giggle. “I’d love to,” I smirked. He grasped my back with his cold bare hands and pulled me in closer.
“I know,” He grinned. He pulled me in and allowed our lips to come together, gently at first like two pillows together, then aggressively. His lips moved from my forehead down to my neck and threatened to proceed down my chest, but he would stop just as he came close each time. He’d pick his head up lock eyes with mine. “It’s only been a couple minutes and you may think I’m rushing into this but I’ve known it since I met you- I love you,” He’d look between my eyes for a second, and then just as I was about to answer, our lips would meet again and we spoke through the silence.
I left his house that night with a wide-eyed smile and a couple hidden hickeys. His words ran laps around my head, each time making me happier. I had never thought it to be possible that someone could be this into me. Though Jonas was not exactly my type per say, he was everything I could’ve asked for and more. Only now that I reflect on what once was but is no longer do I realize how incredibly lucky I was to have Jonas. I realize now how incredibly stupid I was to let him slip through my fingers like miniscule grains of sand.
Jonas was the artist and his words were the brush, painting a smile across my face dusk until dawn. He’d never allow me to feel less than amazing. It’s been two months since someone has told me I’m beautiful—I have to question whether that reigns true or not anymore.
“You’ve got something on your lip, right there,” He’d place a gentle finger on my thick bottom lip.
“Do I?” I’d ask with a smirk.
“Yeah, this,” He’d lean in and press his familiar lips on mine. There was no place I’d rather be than right there with Jonas with our faces pressed against one another. He’d pull away for a second and laugh at the how cheesy he had just been, but then he’d lean back in and kiss me again, unable to resist.
I want that back so badly. I desperately plead with time to turn back and allow me to do things over. I’d never been connected with someone like that before and I fear that I will never be again. My mind had dug myself into a deep hole before Jonas and had practically created its own tombstone. Upon meeting Jonas I was hesitant to allow him in, for I didn’t want to cause him a fraction of the hurt I caused myself. Despite our mass differences and objectionable personalities, Jonas had persisted in his efforts to be with me. Only now do I realize that I hadn’t hesitated initially because I was in fear of hurting Jonas, but because I knew that relying on someone else to fill all of the deep and plentiful holes I had created within myself would drive even the strongest love into the ground.