As an onlooker I was struck hard. It’s not impossible to get on a personal level with me, but I definitely wouldn’t place worth on its potential, especially when the subject doesn’t pertain to me. I hardly ever take actions into sentimentality, but my heart was stolen. It wasn’t stolen by the ever dominating and all too popular “boy”. It was stolen by a couple, an odd pair.
She was beautiful with her long dark brown, flowing hair, gorgeous and tall. And He was a little bit chunky with short curls twisted tightly at his scalp. They were the type of couple that made you take notice, and think ‘how did he get her’? We’re all human and we all think like that sometimes, letting outer appearance deceive us of the treasure inside. We sometimes let looks define a person, but she didn’t.
As a junior I came back to school with my new set of problems. Blind to reality, I lived inside of myself, in a world where only I existed. She showed up to school with no hair upon her perfectly round, pretty little, tan head. She was escorted by her boyfriend who sported the exact same, though imperfect, bald head. Chemo works miracles on the inside while making the outside aware of its existence. But that wasn’t my extent of marveling. I was intrigued and inspired by his support. Though I never worked up enough courage to approach her with all the questions I had lined up, I got my answers slowly, through gossip. I learned that she had found out she had cancer after she and her boyfriend were dating for a few months. He vowed to stick it out with her, and that is exactly what he did. When she lost all of her hair, he shaved his off. He was right there by her side the first day of school, just as he was for every day that followed. He didn’t love her any less than he had before, nor more at the first hint of her hair growing back.
It was then that I vowed to myself that I would never again waste my time with someone who I had to beg to be with and respect me. Why go fifty-fifty, when you could both give a hundred percent of yourselves? Who wrote the rule that a hundred is all there is to give? I believe that love is a popular word that takes no effect until felt. It is misconstrued and intertwined with things having little or no relevance to its actual intensity. Love is intangible. That was the first time I’d ever witnessed it in its pure and innocent beauty. Without flaw, it was sheltering, supporting, and most importantly, it was unconditional.
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