A first love, lost.
February 27, 2008
I always forget what color my eyes turn when I cry.
It’s this bright blue, almost turquoise color, with hints of green, a Caribbean Sea in my irises.
The first time I met him, we exchanged bespectacled glances. Black frames covered his green eyes, brown frames covered my blue. There was no way of detecting the instant comfort I would feel with him, as we rolled skeeballs or played air hockey. I couldn’t expect the circles he would draw on my skin that night or the kiss that would melt me before any of the clothes came off. I had no anticipation; I lived in the moment, savoring each touch, breath, our eyes meeting as his lips drew closer to mine.
We fought, about how he stopped treating me like a romantic prospect and instead as just a friend. I flashed anger, while he flashed humor and amusement, a smile quirking at the corner of his eyes. It was the first I had heard of his potential move back to Chicago, and I sat in his office, wearing a bathing suit, a mini skirt and a t-shirt, having just gotten back from the beach. He wore a blue shirt, jeans, and blue converses. To this day, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to buy or see a pair of blue converses without thinking of the holes that patched through his shoes. With a few boops and thumb wars, the anger dissolved; only the intensity and passion remained. I’m pretty sure we could be heard over the cacophony that is 14th and 1st.
One of our last days together before he moved back to Chicago, I sat on his bed, laughing with him. He looked at me, suddenly serious. “You have the most beautiful eyes,” he told me. “I can’t tell if they’re green or blue in this light.” I told him they were blue. He said, “They’re beautiful either way.” His white comforter absorbed our last memories in his apartment. When we would say goodbye, for the third time, having tried it twice before he left, the words unable to scribe themselves into our hearts.
He picked me up in a red station wagon, nerves tremoring through his body. We hadn’t seen each other in a few months, our conversations relegated to text, and when I could, IM and Skype. We drove around, finally stopping in the parking lot of the school he teaches at. I couldn’t see the pale green of his eyes anymore; I could only feel his lips, querulously pressed against mine, unsure, as though he had forgotten how I tasted. Once he absorbed the flavor, it was as though we had never been apart. His eyes watched mine shut as he rocked my hips against his, in the back of his wagon, a satisfied smirk at his lips.
We talked again. It had been a few weeks since he said he couldn’t do it anymore. We both said hurtful, spiteful things, after months of feeling as though we were floating on clouds. I asked him a pointed question, and saw a tear roll out of his eye. He watched the tears stream from mine. He always did love when I cried after I came, but not when it was like this. We said we’d give it another go.
I couldn’t do it anymore. I couldn’t be made to feel like he wanted everything and he wanted it now, even after he gave me an ultimatum, after he told me we had to end if I couldn’t do what he wanted. I couldn’t be his friend and his girlfriend when he could be so little of either to me. The burnt lightbulb gave me dark in which to cry, to compose my thoughts, to realize it was time to etch him out of my heart and say goodbye. I couldn’t be friends, let alone a lover to someone whose eyes I could no longer read. The last I saw of them last night, they were tired; appreciative; wanting. Always wanting.
I always forget what color my eyes turn when I cry.
I wonder what he would say if he saw their color now.
Entry Filed under: Body language, Funny kisses, Gymnast-Drummer Boy, I can be a girl. Sometimes., Poetic license is dangerous. .
23 Comments Add your own
Leave a Comment
Some HTML allowed:
<a href="" title=""> <abbr title=""> <acronym title=""> <b> <blockquote cite=""> <cite> <code> <del datetime=""> <em> <i> <q cite=""> <strike> <strong>
Trackback this post | Subscribe to the comments via RSS Feed


1.
so@24 | February 27, 2008 at 10:38 pm
This is by far my favorite post of your’s.
I used to love it when my ex used to cry (ironically).
Her’s would turn a very deep grey.
2.
tia | February 27, 2008 at 11:00 pm
you’re the bomb.
sure, i could’ve articulated that better, but i thought i’d just get right to the point.
3.
Samantha | February 28, 2008 at 12:03 am
Beautiful. I’m kinda speechless beyond that…
4.
Princess Pointful | February 28, 2008 at 12:04 am
I know you are hurting right now, DS, but you still shine through with so much beauty.
5.
Clueless Cat | February 28, 2008 at 12:08 am
Beautifully written. I don’t know what else to say.
6.
Lara | February 28, 2008 at 12:29 am
achingly exquisite writing, kid. i’m sure the eyes are still beautiful.
7.
ana | February 28, 2008 at 2:36 am
I am with Lara. An eternity of forgetfulness just went by in a second right now. I’m kind of speechless, this was beautiful.
8.
Nilsa S. | February 28, 2008 at 6:44 am
Aw, DS. Knowing as much as I do, I must say you summarized things brilliantly. Letting go is hard to do. Give yourself some time and then enjoy the freedom when you’re ready. I’m sure you will spread your wings and soar!
9.
Princess Extraordinaire | February 28, 2008 at 8:52 am
I wish I coudl hug you right now - I know you are hurting so much right now but your writing is so beautiful and captivating…
10.
Ashley | February 28, 2008 at 9:20 am
trying to come up with a pointed comment to express how i feel about this post…but all i can say is…speechless. your writing is brilliant.
11.
Jess | February 28, 2008 at 9:37 am
My eyes change color when I cry, too. But they are brown and if I’m not crying nobody ever questions their color.
Beautifully written post, as always.
12.
A Lil' Irish Lass | February 28, 2008 at 9:58 am
Stunningly beautiful post. Really.
13.
crystall | February 28, 2008 at 10:06 am
I’m in a bad state right now with Stephen leaving in a couple days. And yeah. This made me cry.
You are awesome.
14.
Alexis | February 28, 2008 at 11:20 am
I want to hug you.
Love ya, DS.
15.
Deutlich | February 28, 2008 at 11:21 am
Yeah.. I wanna hug you too.
16.
katana | February 28, 2008 at 11:23 am
I think that this is one of the best posts you’ve ever made. I’m a little teary myself. I can definitely relate and I love that your writing expresses things so clearly.
17.
qu33nbee | February 28, 2008 at 12:24 pm
It’s been one heck of a journey, huh? I wonder if it’s over now..I just hope if it’s not, you’re given enough time to heal. You need it…
18.
BondiBetty | February 28, 2008 at 3:30 pm
Yeah, I don’t think I could hate you more right now.
You’re passionate, a spectacular writer, beautiful, strong, clever, confident, interesting, talented, a fabulous dancer, clearly incredibly intelligent, driven and focused, witty and now, NOW, I find out you’ve got blue eyes?
Yep, you’re everything anyone could ask for. Bitch.
So while it hurts now, your time and boy will come. And when he sees your eyes turn colour when you cry, I think it will be from happiness (or cuming).
19.
Trigger | February 28, 2008 at 6:15 pm
Definitely a post that speaks to me. I’m sorry you’re hurting. But you do an amazing job of turning it into beautiful words, if that’s any consolation.
20.
michelle | February 28, 2008 at 6:33 pm
i just found you through indie bloggers - i loved your post there but loved this one even more. you’re an incredible writer.
21.
Yoda | February 28, 2008 at 7:12 pm
Beautiful post! This one goes into my favorite *-d posts in google reader. At the same time, this is incredibly sad, and I know just how much you’re hurtin. HUGS!
22.
phr3ndly | February 28, 2008 at 10:05 pm
I don’t even know you, but my heart goes out to you. I’m in the same place and I know how much you hurt…
23.
keirabilly | March 17, 2008 at 10:46 pm
Touching, very touching