Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
One To Love - 1. One To Love (Revised)
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One To Love
D.K. Daniels
I never understood love could be uncongenial at first, for it to be unconventional. It's not like I imagined I'd be one to fall in love with you. To be honest, I only sought the company and nothing more. I swear it was those lonely days, waiting for someone to come along and concede my poor misguided soul. I recall the first time you messaged me, I was hopeful, at long last I said, someone is interested in more than my body. Though it was not at the forefront, it was duly noted on our first date I'll admit I sly glanced at your ass. I discovered later you did the equivalent. It must have been a common occurrence; us two gay boys, fresh out of school with the world at our feet.
As time floated by, an infatuation crept in. All I craved was to be around you, even if you weren't the most handsome boy in the world you still made me feel special, you took time and garnered pride in me. Recollecting I can envision the first time we met in person, how you stood nervously anticipating like a schoolboy on his first day of big school. I found the trait attractive; it awed me in a way I cannot help linger to fondly these days. Not to mention on our first date after we ate pizza at Supermac's, you almost killed me with an astray bowling ball. To this day, I'll never stand behind you when you are bowling. Nevertheless, I am still rooting for you.
You completed your exams, furthermore, summertime brought with it, azure evenings, skies of birds and buzzing bees. Our conversations grew deeper, more attentive, past the, "I want to know you stages." You juggled your personal and secret life like a circus performer. Ultimately, the act caught up, and I didn't like being a secret anymore.
Halloween has always been my favourite` time of year. On that night I had put so much effort into hosting, that all the people I believed mattered left well before the party began. On the same night, we shared our first kiss. I was nervous; a tingly feeling rummaged about in my stomach, and for the first time in my life, I was scared. I could see you were anxious too. I grasped the courage I didn't know I had, and I kissed you. It erupted like electricity, and for the first time, I shared my first kiss at eighteen. I know lame. Still, I didn't tell you that. I wanted to make it sound that I wasn't wholly navigating in the dark; as were you. Now I know that I don't feel so vulnerable about navigating in the dark with you by my side.
As Christmas approached, I shopped for your first present. I felt proud, and it had to be awesome because it was from me. There were many options to choose from, and I couldn't decide that day, so I ended up having to go shopping all over again.
When the snow began to fall across Ireland, we shared our first sexual experience. It was a long time coming. Our bond had been able to grow past the point of just infatuation. Though your parents expected you home most evenings when you still lived under their roof, and since you were not out, you were afraid to stay out. I remember persuading you to stay the night. I didn't want you driving in foggy and icy conditions at those hours. Of course, you couldn't stay, and I stead up past 3 am to make sure you made it home. I was glad to hear from you when you got home. I went to sleep happy, knowing you were alive and well.
On New Year's Eve, you finally conjured up the courage to stay the night at my house. We kissed in front of my parents, and it didn't feel as bad as you thought it was going to be. I told you my folks were accepting; so, they were bound to take to you. They smiled, everyone hugged, and Mam sent us on our way. The two of us sat talking about the six months we had known each other. Plus, the additional three we spent talking before meeting.
When we grew tired, or well I did, we blew up an air mattress, and the two of us shared our first bed. I tried to be cute. Duh. I kept you awake all night singing pieces of songs intentionally. You giggled, chuckling at my rattled nervousness, and it made my heart sing. I had a case of nervous jitters. I did not feel so tired anymore.
Come January we celebrated my birthday, you bought me Fallout merchandise which is displayed proudly on my shelves with other collectives I have acquired, but that is by far one of my favourites. The following morning you got sick; you went too long without eating. I nursed you back to potential.
March, our anniversary rolled on by, we celebrated by devouring Pizza at Supermacs. I ate like a pig and consumed like one too. Now we were relaxed around each other. If I belched, farted, you associated it with my so-called crazy personality. Therefore, it stuck.
Your birthday came, we celebrated it, the outstanding way. Bowling.
You bought a new car, not long after, you had a crack in your windscreen. You bitched about it for weeks. When summer came along again, we began exploring, like a lot. We went to lots of places, did lots of fun things like playing on swings in a park at twenty-years of age. I told you I loved you. Rumour had it; you told me too.
Following summer, we fought; we didn't speak for a week. I felt crushed. You admitted it too. Us two sat down and chatted about the direction of our relationship. It made things better, stronger.
Another Halloween came and went, it was excellent, we had an early 21st Birthday Party for me because Halloween is my favourite. Thank you for helping me, and for the efforts, you did when filling a room to the height of a 5ft person with balloons. I apologise to your lungs.
At first, I bought you an updated wardrobe. I tried to get you out of your comfort zone. You were sceptical, though now you have more of a selective closet than me.
Another birthday passed, and we decided to travel The Wild Athletic Way. So, we packed your car to the brim. We labelled it the clown car. We assembled our first tent and met some delightful characters, and I spent my first night in a tent ever. We huddled together, enjoying each other's presence. You bitched about how the birds woke you up. I spoke about how the sleep in the tent was the best night's sleep I had ever gotten.
We saw a lot of places on the trip; I had fun. I know you did too. We surfed in Lahinch after visiting the Aran Islands. First time surfing and I love it. I wish the same could have been said about the jellyfish invasion in the water that afternoon. We met a crazy lady from the Netherlands; she was awesome. We traded contact information; that is our next holiday destination.
For Christmas of the 3rd year, I made a scrapbook of our travels. You idolised it. When a sudden fear of heights showed up on the horizon, your soft approach comforted me. Soon not long after that, I made up my mind. I really do love you, I thought. Looks didn't matter as much as I believed they would at first. I fell in love with the sincere, soft, beautiful person you are.
Recently I took photos of your 21st birthday. I'll have to admit, we've put on some weight, and we've grown a little, though I still love you. Even if you are never on time; a little awkward and continuously over complicate things. I wouldn't ask for you to be any different. I love your oddness, and you enjoy mine. That is all that matters, right?
My love, we are ageing, we are no longer new kids released out into the big world. With each day, my love grows stronger, and I thank you for supporting everything you believe I can do, as I have faith in you. I no longer feel like a misguided soul; time spent with you has been crucial to my development. So, let me lay it out one more time, I wish to apologise at the start for being judgmental; not that I told you, but I want you to know. No matter what you look like, I will love you no more, or less than I do now; if you love me no more nor less than you do now.
The End
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Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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