THOSE SUMMER NIGHTS

[43]

[43]

- EDEN -

-

EVER SINCE MY confession, my body's been buzzing from an insurmountable high. I loved him, I loved him, I loved him, I loved him, I loved him, I loved him, I loved him, I loved him.

Now that I had a word for this feeling I haven't been able to describe in these past few months, I couldn't stop using it. I've claimed that I've loved 3 before him, but was I being honest? Did I really love them as much as I loved Atlas?

No, I loved Atlas in the way that the sea reached for the shore; I loved him the way the moon ached for the stars; I loved him more than the world had enough room for.

Love is an intense feeling of deep affection. It's the scary thing that creeps on you when you're least expecting it. It's the feeling that you have for a person that's so strong; so magnificent that your chest aches when you're away from them. A love so cosmic, so colossal, that the smile you've tried to wipe off your face at the thought of them will never budge.

All the times I spent with my head against his chest and all the time I spent with his lips pressed against my neck was building this weight in my chest. I didn't know it at the time, but this was what it was: Love.

And right now, as I watched him from the driver's seat of the car, his eyes shielded by a pair of sunglasses, his curls falling loosely around his forehead, a half-smile pulling at the edge of his lips, I knew it then like I knew it yesterday. I loved him.

He glanced at me as soon as I realized I was staring. With my cheeks burning a bright shade of red, I quickly looked away just for him to pull my gaze back to his with his fingers gently wrapped around my chin. He glanced back at the road for a moment before meeting my eyes again. "Don't look away from me, please."

The smile that tugged at his lips and the faint blush that tinted his slightly burnt cheeks was precious, it was everything in the world to me.

"Mhm, okay." I nodded, heat racing up my cheeks, but my gaze held steady on his. He winked at me before turning back to the road. As he drove, I brought his hand down and threaded my fingers through his. I laid my head down on the rest and watched him as he drove in silence.

When I was younger, I used to be scared of the dark and the stifling quiet. I used to dread going to sleep alone because of the monsters under my bed or the tree trying to climb in through my window. I slept every night with a white noise machine and a night light plugged in next to me.

Even now, I hate going to bed alone or hate sleeping when it's completely quiet. Now, I realize that maybe the quiet isn't so scary if you're with a person who makes it all easier. Maybe the dark isn't so bad if your hand is in the hold of someone you love.

I was meeting Ethan alone today. We were going to meet for brunch at a favorite restaurant of his. When I expected a text from him saying something nice like he couldn't wait to see me or that he'd talk to me soon, he didn't. A simple goodbye was all I got.

It didn't seem like that big of a deal, I know, but it is to me. Was his cold and distant behavior what our relationship has come to? Were our years of estrangement the cause of this? The lack of affection, the lack of fondness in his words was what made me want to curl up in this car and not meet him in that restaurant.

Atlas's hand squeezed mine and when I looked up, I realized we were parked. I sucked in a deep breath and stared out the window. I couldn't see him, but he was in there, I knew it. He was never late.