The Prowler

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100-Word Love Stories

Thank you for your submissions! Students' stories are published here anonymously. Five Prowler editors have included a love story (Ariel E., Lauren P., Sarah S., Emma N. and Sophie N.). Match the editors with their stories and send your guesses to prowler@dths.org. Winners will get chocolate!

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We met in December of 2016. I remember the first words I ever spoke to him were: “Has anyone ever told you that you look like Calum Hood?” Little did I know, those exact words would remain an inside joke for years to come. If I’m not talking to him, I’m texting him. If I’m not texting him, I’m on the phone with him. He’s the only person who knows how to make me smile, and I’ve never rolled my eyes harder than when he tells a stupid joke. Our inside jokes are my favorite. “What am I, chopped liver?”

The way you let the words come through one ear and out the other without a second thought. I wish you wouldn’t let them speak to you like that. I wish you would stand up to them. I wish you could internalize the true depth of the words and argue against them. I know you think you are stronger than that. I know you think that their words can’t hurt. But they do. You can only ignore them for so long until that bottled up energy becomes rage. Not just rage, but a force that is stronger. I love you.

Her whole body vibrated when she laughed, like she couldn’t conceal her giddiness. I wanted to tell her I loved the way she laughed, and how every infinitesimal moment with her was cosmic to me. But my words were incoherent. Trivial little nothings. Her words were the opposite; they were honest and sincere and eloquent. But the thoughts on her mind were never as monumental and heavy as what I longed to tell  her. Maybe that’s why I was hurt so much when one night, sprawled across my bedroom floor, she laughed and said, “You’re like a sister to me.”

When I see you, I start to breathe more heavily, my heart starts to beat faster and faster. I avert my eyes, hoping that you won’t notice me. I have watched you walk through the halls a thousand times, yet I never grow tired of your expression as the cool morning breeze hits your face. Sometimes I dream about you, how you smell, your smile. You turn your head as if looking for something. The thing that you seek is beautiful, you love it with all your heart, and start to walk towards it. You kiss me on the cheek.

 

 

I was both in eighth grade and in the shower when I realized that I was in love with you. It was both the scariest and weirdest thing I’d ever realized. You’ll never know how many times I’ve lied for you, covered for you, cried over you, tried to warm your heart the way you inadvertently warm mine. You’ll never understand how much it hurts when you lie for her, cover for her, cry over her, try to warm her heart when she pushes you aside. But if playing with fire makes you happy, I’ll set the whole world aflame. 

Too many times I fell in love. A beautiful young woman would walk into class catching my attention. I couldn’t help myself but instantly fall in love. I dreamt impossible situations where we would escape together. One day, she asked for help with a project. Her house overlooked the beach. I asked her if she wanted to take a walk on the sand. After a few minutes we sat down side by side looking out onto the vast sea. I looked over at her wondering if this was really happening. I fell in love all over again. It was amazing.

She longed for him to show an ounce of interest. He was always on her mind – it seemed unhealthy. What would he say? Could she throw a witty remark into their conversation? She grew tired of waiting. Who decided men should make the first move? She mustered courage and bolted to him. Bold and exuding confidence, she asked him out. Screw “conventional” — she was never a rule follower. If she had not asked him out, she would have missed the best year (and counting) of her life. She stopped waiting for chips to fall into place and made things happen.

Two swimmers, floating about. Three lanes apart. One breaststroke the other back. Two swimmers. One lane apart; started kicking together. Kicking time (meant) talking time. Chat. Chat; this that. Two swimmers walk out of the pool together. Talking (still); jumping deeper into conversation. Aspirations: when I grow up I’m going to be. And when I grow up I will be right there next to you. The swimmers departed the pool: took the friendship, left the flippers. Two swimmers; one best friend. Soon, one swimmer will run off to a bigger pool, a better pool. Not me, I will stay back.

I sit on the bench, watching the rain pour down. The cold shivers against my skin. As each drop falls, I see the reflection of my relationships. Drip Drop. The first, of my family. Us, sitting on the couch watching a movie. Popcorn, Love and Laughter filling our hearts. The next one of my friends as I sit on the floor with them; talking, peace, and happiness fill my eyes. The last one, of my dogs. They playfully pin me to the ground as they attack me with kisses. Joy and relief rush against my skin. Drip Drop. The rain falls, and my love falls with it.

Henry and May are seventeen. They’ve been dating for a year. They’ve never said “I love you.” They know they can’t wait any longer. They decide to meet at the train tracks where they had their first kiss. May’s on time. Henry’s late. He stopped to get flowers and is racing to get there. While standing on the tracks she sees a beautiful stone. She bends down to pick it up, but her long hair gets stuck. She hears a train and panics. She can’t get free. The sound gets louder. Henry arrives. The sound of the train is gone.  

 

 

1 Comment

One Response to “100-Word Love Stories”

  1. Erin Gastaldi on February 14th, 2019 7:44 pm

    Filled with love reading all of these! Thank you!

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100-Word Love Stories