There is no try, there is only do.

So I'm supposed to write a 3-4 page narrative for AP English with inspiration from the book The Things We Carried. We have to use the author's writing techniques and some of the literary figures he uses as well. He told a story about his first love and her sad, sad death of age 9 (I think). I thought about using love as my topic. So I may post my attempt on the blog just to see what my random readers think about it. I would love any advice. I am not much of an amazing writer though I have quite a few friends who I worship with a snap of a finger after reading anything they write. I really wish I had their talent. I used to call myself poet but I was young and had no idea what I was talking about. I guess I had a better imagination back then! ha ha ha...


Attempt #1:

Warm breezes make their way through my hair, as I sit restless in the lounge chair on the backyard patio. I am hidden beneath the same stars that came out on our first date. It was during the same season that we met by accident. The trees surrounded us as they surround me now, older and wiser. The season always reminds me of you and the way I lost you to my reckless stubborness and haste. I was not even in high school yet. I was looking for adventure just as old bad influences had taught me. You were quiet and had me searching your mysterious posture for a hint as to whether you had any interest in breaking through my walls as well.

My friend told me her neighbor was coming over and he was bringing a friend too. When they arrived I immediately became keen to keep an eye on his friend. It was dark out but we decided still to take a swim. We all were high on the warm air and magic that the youthful season gives us. We were obnoxiously flirtatious in our game. All in good fun it definitely was. I later confided in my friend that I had thought he was cute. She, of course, in our childish ways, went and asked him what he thought of me, knowingly that she would tell me anything he said. I received the highest compliment I have ever received from a guy, whom I thought to be quite a shy one. He said that he had never liked a girl as beautiful as me. Apparently, according to my friend, that was quite something coming from him.

I was not so daring in my dating ventures in those days. But my chance came to make my move and I stole it! I had just won tickets to a huge concert event for the next day and I had to find someone to go with. I asked my friend if he was available and she got me to ask him myself. He was glad to do it. I stayed up for a few hours that night, thinking about all that could happen in the next twenty-four hours. I hadn't been that excited since I had left middle school.

The rain came down in pours and the humidity did not make it any better. It was going to be a long day. In the car we barely made eye contact except for when I would glance at him and look away when he stared back and smiled to himself. It was hard finding words and so we had his mom and brother to rely on for conversation. I listened to the rain being swept away by the wipers and tried to keep my cool. I was overpowered by his presence and couldn't help but blush when i daydreamed about the day ahead.

I ran about the ampitheater with him and my friend watching all the bands play. The music helped with the awkwardness. Sometimes he just wanted to sit because, as he would say, he was tired. I was starting to worry that he had changed his mind and was bored. At the end of the day the last band came on stage. Everybody couldn't help but gather and jump and dance to every song. I looked over at him and decided that I had to do something to save this day. My friend and I grabbed him and made him stand up and dance with us. He began to smile and join in and I found I could finally breathe. We walked out of the ampitheater arms around him, like a pimp, we joked. On the way home, we dropped off my friend and then went to his house. By then we had found some sort of comfortable proximity and somehow his arm ended up around me. I reached for his hand and closed my eyes as I gave into his embrace. The movement from the car seemed to put me into a trance while the radio played songs reminiscent of the day passed.

After that we talked every chance we could online. We decided that we'd date officially. I felt so happy and thought that summer would be the best one to have before high school. We tried to meet up for a movie once. I too nervous to do anything but hold his hand and kiss his cheek one time. The weather never seemed to fair out whenever we chanced a date. We were too young to go out ourselves. We had to rely on parents for transportation. He worked and was committed to his art and music. I was only committed to my dancing and some work here and there. We were limited in many ways and that's when frustration set in. I tried to remember the few special nights we spent together and the talks we shared. But in the end, I was forced to give the ultimatum.

He took the way out. I was hoping he wouldn't. I was young and heartbroken. I thought about him constantly. I sat in my bedroom and voiced mt thoughts to my friend, who became more and more agitated, while we listened to Taking Back Sunday. I became, what some would call, obsessed. I was, to put it frankly, pathetic.

I did find myself in other relationships as time went on. I looked for him in the hallways when school started. Fat chance it was, and so were my attempts to get back with him. I can still remember the smell of our first date, of the rain, of him and his sweatshirt. I can still remember how he held me. I still remember the way he looked down at me after we hugged goodbye for the last time.

Throughout the years I have kept in touch with him. We still talk occasionally. I have tried to move on. However it is hard to forget. I don't want to forget. Who wants to forget their first true young love? Somehow I still believe we have unfinished business. A quote takes on a whole new meaning once you finally experience what it means; "you never know what you got till it's gone". I threw away what I believe to be the most idealistic boyfriend I had.

Now as a rising high school senior I have accepted that my obsession is entirely worthless to my time. I still haven't let go completely, but only as much as I can. I am still found blushing within his presence, as sad as I know that sounds. He has gone away to his old home of California to continue his study of art in college. He is at home but is homesick. He has taught me that there is nothing compared to "southern hospitality" and the family we build here. I was an applicant to request his company before he left and he regrets not taking it. If he fulfills his promise of meeting over his holiday break this winter he will have broken his word. He once tried to get rid of me, I'm not sure why, by giving me the excuse that there was no point in hanging out with me because he probably wouldn't even talk to me once he went off to college. I can see that we have both changed by this evidence. It seems so ironic to me now. It even makes me laugh, but I still adore him.