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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1525190-Myth-or-Truth
Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Romance/Love · #1525190
Should we believe in 'love at first sight'?
A true story........



What is ‘love at first sight’, a myth to the nonbelievers and madness to those who are forever wounded by Cupid’s arrow? Does love at first sight, blind the eye, fool the heart and lie to our senses?

I saw her, sitting on a drugstore stool, sipping on a glass of ice water. I knew I was in love with the girl, in the blue skirt and matching blouse, trimmed in white, the moment I saw her. I sat down, leaving an empty stool between us, and asked the clerk for a soda. He sat the Coke down. The glass slid across the wet marble surface and teetered on the edge. I grabbed the glass before it landed in my lap, not spilling a drop.

“Good catch”, the girl said.

My reflexes were quicker than my mind; I wanted to say something witty, impress the blue-eyed blonde. “Yeah”, was the only word that came from my stupidity bank. What an idiot, I thought to myself as I cradled the glass and looked down, and made rings on the bar's wet surface.

The girl made slurping sounds with her straw. She had my attention and I didn’t know it at the time, but she had also captured my unwavering love that would last a life time. I glanced over at her. Even though she was sitting, I could tell she was tall, slender, borderline skinny. The hint of freckles sprinkled across her nose, along with her pale skin and impish grin left a lasting impression upon me. Her pouting expression and curling lips gave her a mischievous look when she smiled. I wondered, what is she hiding behind that smile?

Later, I learned her name was Shirley Ann. In time, we became friends and this friendship became an inseparable relationship. I eventually found the untapped courage and asked, “Will you be my girl and love me forever, Shirley?” She said, “Yes.”

We made plans and shared our dreams, even daydreamed of our marriage. We cruised the country roads in my ’56 Chevy while listening to The Supremes and making promises to one another. Our first daughter, we’d call Bobbi Jo; we would grow old together … or so I thought. Head over heels in love; I took my last $80.00 and put a ring on lay-a-way. Money well spent for the love of my life … or so I thought.

And then one day, my world crashed. Colors changed, the air closed in around me and took my breath away, what was right quickly became wrong and I had trouble making sense out of nonsense. On that day, I changed. The belief in reliability, truth and trusting in anyone or anything ever again left my soul. Trust became a dirty word and still is to this day. Yet, I condemn myself … the mistake was mine, for trusting and believing I had found true love.

Shirley, the girl I loved, the one and only one who I thought I would spend a lifetime with, cheated on me. She found someone else to love and then, lied to me. Her tormenting lies echoed in my mind, the mental suffering went on and on. In my darkest moments I questioned whether I could go on living without her.

I had lost the girl I would never stop loving.

It nearly destroyed me, but I eventually found the inner strength and the will to live, and fought my way away from the abyss that was swallowing me. The painful memory lingers in my mind and I’m sure I never completely healed, but I have buried the bitterness, and still have a special place in my heart for Shirley.

She moved away, married and had children. I never saw her again ... the girl I fell in love with that day in the drug store.

To my knowledge, the ring still sits in a pretty box on a jewelry store’s shelf , hidden away , waiting for my return, or as I like to think at times … it ended up on a deserving finger. This thought helps ease that lingering pain which I have felt for forty-seven years.

The drug store was torn down in 1965; later the entire block was swallowed up by a shopping mall. Nowadays, I don’t drink fountain sodas or stumble for words, but I am left with cherished memories and a broken heart which time has failed to heal. I still think about the girl in the blue skirt and matching blouse, trimmed in white, and her impish grin.






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