CHAPTER THREE: TELL ME YOUR STORY
SUBMISSION 17
Before I met my boyfriend, I was not in a good position.
I took a year to myself from an abusive relationship, I
explored and found myself again. So upon meeting him, I
was ready. I was always ready for him.
I can always replay our first time meeting, asking
to explore all of York with him was one of my fondest
memories. We saw a lot of York that both of us were even
surprised with. Although sometimes I’m unable to revisit
the same exact places we went to, I can still remember
the feelings I had when we were there. Sitting above
Verr Hall, going through the archives, seeing parts of
York I doubt too many people explore - our little spots.
I still remember every time he tried to introduce me
to his friends, and how considerate you were about how
uncomfortable I felt, but I didn’t feel scared. I had him
to guide me through it.
I can still remember how cute he was about everything.
When we first held hands, he never wanted to let go,
even if we were starting to sweat. When we first kissed,
he just wouldn’t stop giving them to me. When we first
cuddled, he let me get comfy before he did. When I showed
you my school , he was so excited for me because he wanted
to learn what I learned.
Then, I realized, he did everything for me. Everything to
make sure I was happy because it made him happy. For that,
I can’t stop crying. He gave me the one thing I needed.
Not the materialistic things, but the most beautiful and
pure memories I could possibly have of him.
He held my hand through everything, letting me believe he
was always here to lead me. He gave me so many kisses to
remind me how much he’d miss me until we saw each other
next. He would never complained about how I stood next
to you because it was just the closeness we enjoyed. He
always just stared at me to tell me he loved looking at
me, letting me believe I was worth something. He always
had the biggest smile on his face because he never wanted
to see me sad or worried. He always had this passion
about learning that made me want to strive for something
better.
When he passed away, not only did I lose my first real
taste of love, I lost a part of me. I lost my home and my
future.
I hated him for that, but I get upset afterwards because
I could never hate him for all the things he’s done for
me. I was frustrated because I didn’t have anybody to
talk to anymore. With him being gone, I felt like I lost
everything.
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