All Nonfiction
- Bullying
- Books
- Academic
- Author Interviews
- Celebrity interviews
- College Articles
- College Essays
- Educator of the Year
- Heroes
- Interviews
- Memoir
- Personal Experience
- Sports
- Travel & Culture
All Opinions
- Bullying
- Current Events / Politics
- Discrimination
- Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking
- Entertainment / Celebrities
- Environment
- Love / Relationships
- Movies / Music / TV
- Pop Culture / Trends
- School / College
- Social Issues / Civics
- Spirituality / Religion
- Sports / Hobbies
All Hot Topics
- Bullying
- Community Service
- Environment
- Health
- Letters to the Editor
- Pride & Prejudice
- What Matters
- Back
Summer Guide
- Program Links
- Program Reviews
- Back
College Guide
- College Links
- College Reviews
- College Essays
- College Articles
- Back
Summer Love...?
It’s the same story as others. He’s rich, I’m poor. We’re not to be seen together. Not so easy as that really. I’m just there, always watching him, always staring. I wish I was the girl that was wrapped in his arms. But, I’m not and I know that I can never be. Everyone can wish, can daydream, can stay awake and hope, right? So that’s what I do. That’s all I can do. I see him staring at me sometimes. He knows that I’m watching. I see him look for me. Maybe one day he’ll find me and he’ll pull me into his arms. Maybe, maybe not…
I lay awake in the middle of the night, thinking…No, more like dreaming of what it would be like. Staring into the darkness, his eyes haunting me. Are they blue? Green? Hazel? Brown? I don’t know, but what I do know is that they are beautiful. They are kind, gentle, and full of unknowing love.
I feel the heat of the summer night. Beads of sweat run down my face mixing with my tears. I feel a bead trickle and tickle down my back. That bead pulls me out of my reverie and I try to bring it back. A cool feeling takes over my body and I imagine he is lying next to me, holding me.
Does he love me? Does he really even know that I exist? Does he know that I feel for him by just looking into his eyes? But these questions don’t matter. What really matters is do I love him? I look deep within my soul and search for the answer. What does that little voice say? It doesn’t whisper yes, instead it screams “YES!!!”
Yes, I do love him, or else why would I lay awake at night thinking about his eyes? Why do his eyes haunt me? His face? His beautiful lips that I long to touch with my fingers? With my own lips? Why would these things haunt me? Could it merely be lust? NO! It’s not! It is deeper than that. I long for him to hold me, so that I can feel secure in his arms. But I know that this cannot be. It is forbidden, but even so, I long for this forbidden love… I fall into a fitful, sweaty, sticky hot sleep. It’s all I have to get away from his haunting eyes and his beautiful godlike face.