8 October 2012 fiction, "the first time I said I love you"

It’s almost impossible to forget the first time you say those three little magic words: “I love you.” They carry so much weight, and people don’t realize this until they get into a situation where they really mean it. Saying “I love you too, mom.” Or “Thank you so much, I love you!” don’t really have the same impact a simple “I love you” does.  

            The first time I said I love you, it was in response to someone. His name was Jeff. And I was seventeen. We were crazy in love. Like that movie “The Notebook” in love. Two teenagers with the world at their fingertips, and all we saw was each other. We couldn’t seem to explain how much we wanted to be together all the time, how our conversations never lagged, how any second without each other was a second wasted. And the first time he said I love you, I remember asking “what?” as if I hadn’t heard exactly what he had just said. He said it again. “I….love…you.”                                                                                                                                I swallowed and tried to calm the butterflies that were going crazy in my stomach. It took me a second, almost a second too long, to collect my thoughts and tell him I loved him too. And when I said it, he smiled the biggest smile I had ever seen, and he picked me up from the ground and twirled me around. “SHE LOVES ME!” he shouted to the world. And I laughed until my stomach hurt.

            It’s truly indescribable. To think that someone cares about you that much, that they give you that gift, that word that only a few people get to hear in their lifetime; it’s just the most incredible feeling in the world. More exhilarating than a roller coaster, and definitely more frightening.