It’s like he’s a telepath, hearing my thoughts and giving me exactly what I’ve been craving. Then he places his forehead against mine, staring down at me with his steel blue eyes through a thick mass of long eyelashes. “Watch me,” he breathes.
I do as I’m told. I gaze into his eyes and see the deep abyss of emotion. It stretches like a winding road on a mountain top and twists around cliffs and after that it’s all downhill.
I see myself in his eyes.
I’m at the bottom of the hill waiting for him. He runs toward me and I see his radiant smile as he closes the gap between us. I hold my arms out, anticipating our bodies crashing together, swept up into a hopeless and loving embrace and now I understand why Elliot wanted me to look into his eyes.
The road was like a path he had to travel down to find himself, to realize what he wanted the most in the world. I am the end of his journey because what he wanted the most is me.
To him, I am his forever.
More tears flood my eyes and I try to suck them back, but I can’t.
You know you’re sick in love when a word, a touch, and a kiss can seriously move you to tears.
~31~
Anyone can catch your eye, but it takes someone special to catch your heart. ~Author Unknown~
The next morning I wake up in Elliot’s arms. He kisses my forehead and says, “Good morning beautiful.”
I smile. “Good morning.”
He leaves a trail of kisses from my temple to my lips and as much as it pains me to tear myself away from him I know I have to. I need to go back to my dorm and check on Whit. I kiss Elliot goodbye and he gives me his new cell number then I walk out of the dorm with a giddy feeling in my stomach, a warm feeling in my heart, and a huge grin on my face.
When I walk into my dorm room Whit is just waking u
p. “Ugh,” she groans. “Now look who’s doing the walk of shame.”
I laugh. “Not exactly.” I sit down on my bed and fold up my legs. “A little hung over, huh?”
Whit lies back down. “A little is an understatement.” She goes on. “Seriously where were you? I wake up and you’re MIA.”
“I stayed with Elliot last night.”
“How did I not see that one coming?”
I shrug. “Maybe because you were passed out.”
Whit lets out a weak laugh. “So how was it?”
There’s only a one word answer I can give her. “Amazing.”
Whit’s mouth hangs open as she tries to sit up. “No way. Nuh uh.”
I frown at her. “What?”
“If you think for one second that you’re going to be giving me a one word description of your first romantic rendezvous you’re freaking high. Spill it, sister. I want all of the details.”
I laugh and shake my head. I can’t get anything past her. I begin to describe my night with Elliot in detail, starting after I put Whitney to bed. Whitney laughs and swoons and at the end of the conversation she says, “So you really love him, huh?”
I beam brightly. “Yeah, I do.”
Love is a lot like humanity, neither one is perfect. I’d spent years obsessing over perfection. I’d spent years living inside a bubble thinking that perfection equals love, but it doesn’t. It’s not love unless it’s messy and wild and flawed because nothing real is perfect.
And you can’t spend your entire life searching for perfection or you just might pass up something real that’s been in front of you the whole time.
Epilogue