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Description

Love is a mysterious thing; an undefinable, unquantifiable enigma, that could parade in plain sight and yet remain as elusive and unfathomable as the deepest of life’s unanswerable questions.
Or at least, that’s how it felt to her.
It seemed like all around her people were pairing off. Strangers reached out a hand and clasped one another, a connection made. Acquaintances altered their course, diverting so as to intercept and intermingle. The hugs of friends softened and slowed, feelings intensifying, intertwining limbs lingering tenderly…
Yet she remained an island.
She didn’t know what was wrong with her, if there was even anything wrong at all. As far as she could tell she simply didn’t seem to feel what others did, but had no idea why that would be the case. She understood the base principles, and could appreciate that people enjoyed having someone that they could rely on for comfort and warmth, but what eluded her was the actual drive itself; she felt nothing pushing her forward to satisfy this need, because she felt no need at all.
She thought of children, rolling their eyes when their parents kissed, proclaiming it ‘icky’, and felt more empathy to them than she did her peers. She didn’t find it disgusting or unpleasant, but she didn’t see the appeal either; what was so special about putting your lips together?
She had kissed a boy once. It was something her friends had orchestrated, apparently misconstruing her lack of interest for shyness, and selected a boy that they thought would be a good match for her. She’d resisted at first, but a part of her had thought that maybe, just maybe, she would understand it if she tried, and so she’d gone along with it. She didn’t know what to expect, that maybe a switch would be flipped, or a lightbulb would burst into radiance, but instead she’d been disappointed; enlightenment had failed to dawn on her, and beyond the mechanics of the act she’d felt nothing.
Her friends, eager for details, had once more failed to realise her inability to describe her emotions following the ‘landmark’ event was due to the fact that she simply didn’t have any; shyness, instead, was championed yet again. As a result, she’d been coerced into ‘dating’ the boy for a time, though this was thankfully short-lived and not particularly arduous; he’d sensed her reluctance more acutely, and broke it off soon enough.
She’d returned to her typical state as an island, and was grateful to do so; going through the motions with someone for whom she felt nothing had been a little wearing, and the last thing she wanted was to end up hurting someone who developed feelings for her that she was simply unable to return. Her friends had attempted to set her up a few times subsequently, but her experiment in dating now over she was firmer in voicing her refusal. Their apparent guilt at her status as a perpetual third-wheel mercifully faded quickly, and they were content to abide by her wishes. She was assured that her first and only partner must not have been ‘the one’, and when she met the one that was she would know. Given her prior experiences this had seemed unlikely to her, but she’d smiled and nodded, saying all the things she suspected she was supposed to say, and exhaled gratefully when life finally began to move on.
Time had passed slowly, and her relationship with love had remained much the same; a casual observer. Through her friends and those in her immediate surroundings, she was given front row seats to flirtation, lust, jealousy, confusion, heartbreak, renewal, termination, and endurance. Occasionally others would join her in the audience, ejected from the sometimes wild and unpredictable movements on the stage, but eventually they all resumed their part in the dance that unfolded before her eyes.
One fateful spring however, everything changed.
Sitting under the soft shade of an oak tree, enraptured in the display of nature emerging from its slumber all around her, she’d barely noticed the stranger sitting down next to her. She paid them no mind until they stood and brushed stray grass and leaves from their clothes, some of which inadvertently scattered onto her lap and broke through the fog of her awareness. They made eye-contact for the first time, and while the newcomer extended their apologies she sat and stared, paralysed.
Her chest was tight.
She had no idea what that meant; it was a sensation she’d never felt before. Her heart was pounding, her blood rushing through her veins, her stomach refusing to settle, and she felt her skin flush under their gaze.
She was so distracted by the riot of unfamiliar senses rocking her body that the encounter managed to come to a close without her speaking a word, her sole contribution to the exchange the briefest of nods, and the feeblest of smiles.
Yet still the seed was planted.
She didn’t know if the stranger had been around her for some time, swimming in the same environs, their paths by pure chance never happening to cross until that day, however from that moment on she seemed to see them everywhere she went.
When she had lunch, there they were.
When she browsed the market, there they were.
When she went to the gym, there they were.
She became an expert at picking them out from a crowd, somehow able to almost sense them, before she actually laid eyes on them. She only had to enter a room and she could feel something deep within herself tremble, its vibrations alerting her to their presence. She listened to them talk with their friends; she watched them interact with others and the world around them; she learned what she could of them, from the safety of her watchtower.
The seed, buried deep in her chest, nurtured and indulged by her attentions, slowly split open. Its roots snaked their way through every fibre of her being, intertwining with her very core. She felt it grow and reach out, its tendrils stroking and caressing her mind, nudging her thoughts, till she could think of little else but them; the object of her affection, the target of her longing, the source of her delicious sense of unease. They were the sun, and she could feel her thoughts reaching out to them like the branches of a tree, craving their warming touch.
Was this love?
Her body danced with electricity, her nerves aflame, ice-water in the pit of her stomach, her heart in her throat whenever she saw them. She had no experience in this matter, had never felt anything like this before, but she did not know what else it could possibly be.
Her answer came to her finally in the park. She saw the newcomer, the intruder unto her life who had thrown her into such disarray, sitting once more beneath a tree, and realised unexpectedly something that she had failed to register for weeks; it was the same tree underneath which they’d first met. It was always the same tree. For weeks, the stranger had graced no other, resigning their presence to this one tree alone.
It could have meant nothing, but she found herself praying it was more than mere coincidence. Her feet carried her to them without thought, and her legs folded under her unprompted, placing her beside them under the rustling leaves of the oak.
She did not know what to do, had not even planned to come this far, her body acting without her consent, so the words came awkwardly. She stumbled over her greeting, stuttered her small talk, and was almost at her wits end when they placed a hand on her cheek, effectively silencing her.
The world stood still as their lips touched tenderly against her own, and as the chills ran down her back, the flames igniting and coursing the length of her body, she realised it was nothing like the kiss she’d had before. This kiss was magic. It was the embodiment of all that was right and well with the world. It was electric, and burning, and hot. It was gentle, and soft, and soothing. It was everything, all at once, and it was hers.
All they’d done was press their lips together, but suddenly she understood. Everything that had eluded her before, that she’d failed to comprehend, she grasped it now. It was confusing, and chaotic, and nonsensical, but she knew now that love could be all that and so much more. It could be troublesome, and hard, and tenuous, but there was nothing else like it, and no matter what hardships one faced along the way, love was worth it all.
“Wow,” she whispered, nervously tucking a strand of hair back behind her ear, worried that her face would sear crimson and give away the pounding of her heart.
“Wow,” agreed her sun, her lips parting in a tender smile, her fingers playing gently with a strand of her own.

Description

Love is a mysterious thing; an undefinable, unquantifiable enigma, that could parade in plain sight and yet remain as elusive and unfathomable as the deepest of life’s unanswerable questions.
Or at least, that’s how it felt to her.
It seemed like all around her people were pairing off. Strangers reached out a hand and clasped one another, a connection made. Acquaintances altered their course, diverting so as to intercept and intermingle. The hugs of friends softened and slowed, feelings intensifying, intertwining limbs lingering tenderly…
Yet she remained an island.
She didn’t know what was wrong with her, if there was even anything wrong at all. As far as she could tell she simply didn’t seem to feel what others did, but had no idea why that would be the case. She understood the base principles, and could appreciate that people enjoyed having someone that they could rely on for comfort and warmth, but what eluded her was the actual drive itself; she felt nothing pushing her forward to satisfy this need, because she felt no need at all.
She thought of children, rolling their eyes when their parents kissed, proclaiming it ‘icky’, and felt more empathy to them than she did her peers. She didn’t find it disgusting or unpleasant, but she didn’t see the appeal either; what was so special about putting your lips together?
She had kissed a boy once. It was something her friends had orchestrated, apparently misconstruing her lack of interest for shyness, and selected a boy that they thought would be a good match for her. She’d resisted at first, but a part of her had thought that maybe, just maybe, she would understand it if she tried, and so she’d gone along with it. She didn’t know what to expect, that maybe a switch would be flipped, or a lightbulb would burst into radiance, but instead she’d been disappointed; enlightenment had failed to dawn on her, and beyond the mechanics of the act she’d felt nothing.
Her friends, eager for details, had once more failed to realise her inability to describe her emotions following the ‘landmark’ event was due to the fact that she simply didn’t have any; shyness, instead, was championed yet again. As a result, she’d been coerced into ‘dating’ the boy for a time, though this was thankfully short-lived and not particularly arduous; he’d sensed her reluctance more acutely, and broke it off soon enough.
She’d returned to her typical state as an island, and was grateful to do so; going through the motions with someone for whom she felt nothing had been a little wearing, and the last thing she wanted was to end up hurting someone who developed feelings for her that she was simply unable to return. Her friends had attempted to set her up a few times subsequently, but her experiment in dating now over she was firmer in voicing her refusal. Their apparent guilt at her status as a perpetual third-wheel mercifully faded quickly, and they were content to abide by her wishes. She was assured that her first and only partner must not have been ‘the one’, and when she met the one that was she would know. Given her prior experiences this had seemed unlikely to her, but she’d smiled and nodded, saying all the things she suspected she was supposed to say, and exhaled gratefully when life finally began to move on.
Time had passed slowly, and her relationship with love had remained much the same; a casual observer. Through her friends and those in her immediate surroundings, she was given front row seats to flirtation, lust, jealousy, confusion, heartbreak, renewal, termination, and endurance. Occasionally others would join her in the audience, ejected from the sometimes wild and unpredictable movements on the stage, but eventually they all resumed their part in the dance that unfolded before her eyes.
One fateful spring however, everything changed.
Sitting under the soft shade of an oak tree, enraptured in the display of nature emerging from its slumber all around her, she’d barely noticed the stranger sitting down next to her. She paid them no mind until they stood and brushed stray grass and leaves from their clothes, some of which inadvertently scattered onto her lap and broke through the fog of her awareness. They made eye-contact for the first time, and while the newcomer extended their apologies she sat and stared, paralysed.
Her chest was tight.
She had no idea what that meant; it was a sensation she’d never felt before. Her heart was pounding, her blood rushing through her veins, her stomach refusing to settle, and she felt her skin flush under their gaze.
She was so distracted by the riot of unfamiliar senses rocking her body that the encounter managed to come to a close without her speaking a word, her sole contribution to the exchange the briefest of nods, and the feeblest of smiles.
Yet still the seed was planted.
She didn’t know if the stranger had been around her for some time, swimming in the same environs, their paths by pure chance never happening to cross until that day, however from that moment on she seemed to see them everywhere she went.
When she had lunch, there they were.
When she browsed the market, there they were.
When she went to the gym, there they were.
She became an expert at picking them out from a crowd, somehow able to almost sense them, before she actually laid eyes on them. She only had to enter a room and she could feel something deep within herself tremble, its vibrations alerting her to their presence. She listened to them talk with their friends; she watched them interact with others and the world around them; she learned what she could of them, from the safety of her watchtower.
The seed, buried deep in her chest, nurtured and indulged by her attentions, slowly split open. Its roots snaked their way through every fibre of her being, intertwining with her very core. She felt it grow and reach out, its tendrils stroking and caressing her mind, nudging her thoughts, till she could think of little else but them; the object of her affection, the target of her longing, the source of her delicious sense of unease. They were the sun, and she could feel her thoughts reaching out to them like the branches of a tree, craving their warming touch.
Was this love?
Her body danced with electricity, her nerves aflame, ice-water in the pit of her stomach, her heart in her throat whenever she saw them. She had no experience in this matter, had never felt anything like this before, but she did not know what else it could possibly be.
Her answer came to her finally in the park. She saw the newcomer, the intruder unto her life who had thrown her into such disarray, sitting once more beneath a tree, and realised unexpectedly something that she had failed to register for weeks; it was the same tree underneath which they’d first met. It was always the same tree. For weeks, the stranger had graced no other, resigning their presence to this one tree alone.
It could have meant nothing, but she found herself praying it was more than mere coincidence. Her feet carried her to them without thought, and her legs folded under her unprompted, placing her beside them under the rustling leaves of the oak.
She did not know what to do, had not even planned to come this far, her body acting without her consent, so the words came awkwardly. She stumbled over her greeting, stuttered her small talk, and was almost at her wits end when they placed a hand on her cheek, effectively silencing her.
The world stood still as their lips touched tenderly against her own, and as the chills ran down her back, the flames igniting and coursing the length of her body, she realised it was nothing like the kiss she’d had before. This kiss was magic. It was the embodiment of all that was right and well with the world. It was electric, and burning, and hot. It was gentle, and soft, and soothing. It was everything, all at once, and it was hers.
All they’d done was press their lips together, but suddenly she understood. Everything that had eluded her before, that she’d failed to comprehend, she grasped it now. It was confusing, and chaotic, and nonsensical, but she knew now that love could be all that and so much more. It could be troublesome, and hard, and tenuous, but there was nothing else like it, and no matter what hardships one faced along the way, love was worth it all.
“Wow,” she whispered, nervously tucking a strand of hair back behind her ear, worried that her face would sear crimson and give away the pounding of her heart.
“Wow,” agreed her sun, her lips parting in a tender smile, her fingers playing gently with a strand of her own.