Monday 25 September 2006

Strangely Romantic

It was my grade 12 year. I really liked a guy in grade 11 and we'd started hanging out with another couple, mutual friends I'd played matchmaker for.

One night, the four of us were lying on our backs in the middle of the local park, surrounded by trees in a clearing by some picnic benches. It was summer and the grass was cool but not damp, the temperature was perfect. As we lay there in the dark, looking at the stars, I was next to the guy I liked; not quite close enough to touch, but close enough that we knew the other person was there without really knowing what to do about it.

We'd been there less than half an hour when some other people showed up. It was a bunch of guys from the rival highschool, drunk and looking for trouble. My crush was a bit of a badass and was well known around town so I was worried he'd be up for a fight and things would get ugly. I didn't want to have anything to do with this guy if he was willing to fight in front of me, but it seemed unavoidable.

We all stood up, and my guy placed himself in front of me, keeping the drunk guys away from me. He took a few steps towards them and my girl friend and I backed away. There was some shoving and swearing but despite the fact that our two guys were outnumbered, a fight didn't happen; just some teen posturing and a mention of the fact that this park was, for lack of a better term, our space, and the guys needed to leave us all alone.

They left soon enough and we decided to head somewhere else for the rest of the night. As we were leaving, my guy pulled me aside and asked me if I was ok. I nodded, a little shaken, and he gently took my hand and held it all the way back to the car. The four of us went back to his house and lay in his backyard on a blanket and looked for shooting stars. This time, I lay right next to my crush, my head on his shoulder, his arm around me. That moment back at the park, him taking my hand after he'd deflected what could have been a nasty fight, was somehow the start of our relationship and we timidly spent the rest of the summer together.

Something about that whole evening has always stuck with me as one of the most romantic nights in my life. Maybe it was the star-gazing, maybe it was feeling safe and cared for. Maybe it was just a good combination of everything, and who he was, and how I felt about him. Nevertheless, it was sweet and very nice.

Sometimes the most romantic things are those that aren't planned. Sometimes romance just happens. The best relationships include planned moments and the moments that happen.


I mean, who knew holding hands under the stars would be so perfect?

Actually... that does sound rather lovely.

4 comments:

Anonymous said...

:) Yes, there should be more holding hands under the stars.

Victoria said...

I know. For sure. Gentlemen? Are you listening?

More holding hands under the stars! :)

dilling said...

it sounds beautiful to me

Victoria said...

it was : )

*sighs blissfully, remembering*