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thesestoriesofours · 5 years

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It was the look on the soldier’s face that got me. He’d barely whispered a word before I’d fallen to my knees with chest racking sobs.

I got a letter today...it was from before he...well.

We were high school sweethearts.

He was my person.

I begged him not to go but he wouldn’t listen to me. He always felt that he had something to make up for. After his brother was dishonorably discharged it had put a strain on his military family.

I begged him not to go.

note: thank you to Adelaide, for sharing her story.

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thesestoriesofours · 5 years

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Termed In the Moment:

Almost Lover

Without even realising it, my goal was self-sabotage by telling you exactly what you wanted to hear.

I’m very much stuck in my imagination, another world. but I’m stuck like Peter Pan was stuck. I have this problem of unrealistic expectations and romanticising my life to the point where I think it may become one of our biggest issues. I know you’d rather deal with something like this when it comes but I can’t stop thinking. I’m wondering when you realise that I’m not who you think I am. I’m not good enough for you. You can think the same of yourself but I promise that it is me who will be the problem. I don’t know how to be anything else, but I don’t want you to regret me. What if you do. And what if you end up resenting me, because I knew all along I’d walk right in and ruin your life. Just when you were finding happiness again. I’m so sorry. But I was selfish and you were offering everything I wanted and thought I needed on a silver platter.

But what if it all works out…I’m too scared to even dream.

I’ve never been left breathless by a kiss. That concept never fully formed in my mind because I could kiss people without needing air for a long time. But after barely a few seconds of kissing you, I realised I needed to breathe. I don’t even understand how that happens.

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thesestoriesofours · 5 years

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With him, I am not afraid.

Of the innocent moments. Little gestures, quick kisses, simple touches.

Of the intimate moments. Lips locked, clothes dropped - without a single touch.

I am always on guard, afraid it could be too good to be true. But he’s always there to prove it’s real right when I’m about to lose hope.

2/?

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thesestoriesofours · 5 years

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The night was a blur, but she...she was clear as day - beautiful as the sun

At the time, I was as dark as the other side of the moon.

So I guess it made sense. In the early morning, music drumming, sweat gleaming in a neon lit night club...it just sort of happened.

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thesestoriesofours · 5 years

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thesestoriesofours · 5 years

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I want passion, anger and fire and desperation. Longing for something more than just purity. Something dangerous and raw; something that ignites your soul in a way that you never thought possible. Because you just can’t keep your hands off each other.

I want a classic. I want innocence and that young love kind of feeling that envelops your every breath.

I want adventure, risks for nothing at all with someone who would give it all. No matter how long or short, every moment is one we’ll never forget.

I want a home. Safety in someone else’s arms and vulnerability without fear.

I want nervousness, butterflies in my stomach, and that empty, aching, heart-wrenching feeling when we are apart.

I want someone to break my heart, because I don’t really feel anything at all.

I never imagined I’d find all four in him.

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thesestoriesofours · 5 years

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The One Who Played God - Part 3

We were horrible to each other. And if it ended this way -- then why the hell can’t I stop thinking about you? Comparing you to every guy in my life.

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thesestoriesofours · 5 years

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“I tried. But loving you would mean giving up my dreams, my passions and my freedom. And what terrifies me the most is the idea that you just might be worth losing everything that I am.”

Then again, you would never agree with such a thing.

1/?

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thesestoriesofours · 5 years

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“We’re not perfect. We laugh too hard, we are way too loud, and we are such dorks. But doing it together is what makes us best friends.”

- Unknown

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thesestoriesofours · 5 years

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One day, he came into my room drunk as all hell. He was playing…Frank Sinatra, if my memory serves me. He took my hand and started to dance with me. It was clumsy and unchoreographed but my hands felt light in his carefree ones.

His best friend, my future Amis Amants, came in a few moments later and took up drunk Sinatra’s position when he dropped it. I can remember looking up into his beautiful green eyes and butterflies in my stomach making me immediately drop eye contact and step away from him. I was a fool to believe no one else noticed - I know more now.

Sinatra’s eyes – they were blue. The first time we hung out late at night, he tried to kiss me. I wouldn’t let him, giving him some ridiculously mysterious answer like “I want to be the one girl who doesn’t kiss you”. Honestly, I wanted him to remember me as different – don’t we all?

We spent one night outside in his hammock. It was small and cramped and we kept close to each other to keep out the chilling air but it was nice. It was pure, if only for that moment.

Months later, at the end of the year, I gave in and he kissed my lips with the passion of a man desperate to prove himself. His hands dancing around the waistband of my jeans and slipping inside before I remembered that we were in the middle of the hallway. He didn’t care.

“He stole you from me.”

His lips found my neck once more and I lost myself in his sudden declarations of passion. It was reckless…but Sinatra reminded me of him and I’m still not ready to let go.

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thesestoriesofours · 5 years

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The One Who Played God - Part 2

He kissed me with all the passion of a man desperate to run away but too afraid to even try.

I kissed him back with an experienced naiveté, craving disaster to replace air.

It was a night of indulgence, and I’ve paid for it ever since.

Part 1 | Part 3

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thesestoriesofours · 5 years

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The One Who Played God

We fought like two people who wanted the world to burn.

And every time he looked at me something in my body told me to run as fast as I possibly could. But I could never break away before time froze us together in place, because he couldn’t look away either.

He made me feel like I was on fire. And I loved it.

Part 2 | Part 3

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thesestoriesofours · 5 years

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Yearbooks signings suck. Rarely have I ever read a yearbook message that said exactly what I wanted it to. And it’s because we have so much to say, so many memories that you cannot possibly fit them all in. When we first met, and I threw my arm around your shoulder and introduced you to everyone at our opening party. Your freshman year when you would tell me stories about the girl you were in love with, and I pretended not to know that it was me who was breaking your heart. My last day of senior year, when I let you kiss me...

“Whatever you say in a yearbook is permanent. They are your last words. Memorialized forever on a page.

You once doubted me when I said I’d do anything for you. But you were wrong. I would. And the reason is because I really believe in you. You’re so brilliant and determined and passionate. You’re everything I wish I could be and more and I want to support you in every way I can. You are capable of great things. Do me a favour. Don’t focus so much on your future that you forget to live in the present. You’re going to be fine.

I’ve come to a lot of realizations in the last few months. Realizations that could change everything. But, I’m just a little too late. I wish we had another year. But we don’t. And I disagree with you. I do believe that everything happens for a reason. Maybe this is the end of our road...but -”

If I’d let myself, I could have fallen in love with him. Lived a nice, classic life with no surprises and no adventures -- but it would have been a happy life. But it wasn't about me...he deserves so much better than what I could ever give him. I took his friendship, his love for granted and I hope someday that he finds someone who will cherish him every bit as much as he will them - be that friend or lover.

But just having known him...was one of the greatest gifts I could have ever known.

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thesestoriesofours · 5 years

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The Friendship No One Else Understood

We were both broken. In our own special ways.

You’d expect a friendship like ours to be unhealthy, sustained only by the damage we’d both collected like dust all our lives.

But our friendship was easy, natural. It formed in an instant, and took us a year to find it. There’s a sort of freedom to be completely open in a way that I never expected to find in another person. To a point where it’s not even a matter of trust, but rather one of acceptance.

Because of her, I no longer feel empty.

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thesestoriesofours · 5 years

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“I have aggrandized Henry.

I can make a Dostoyevsky of him.

I breathe strength into him.

I am aware of my power, but my power is feminine;

it demands a match, not a victory” - Anaïs Nim

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thesestoriesofours · 6 years

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If you’ll allow me a little background first: One day, my friends and I were killing time in an antique shop when I found a section of old yearbooks. In one, we found this yearbook letter that took up two whole pages and it’s haunted me ever since.

So I present: the Almost Love Story of Mary Lou and Dick Mendosa

Dear Mary Lou,

One of the things I will miss most about the love of the school year (and my probably not returning) in that I probably will not have an opportunity to see you again or at least for a long time. And I really will miss you, no matter how much I joke about it. I hope you come back here ned year as you plan and not break down, and have, and decide you would rather go to school at home. BYU is a great school - I might even be back myself. Hope you earn a lot of money this summer as a “straw lass” picking berries and in the car nary and have a lot of time to make that coat you want and plenty of shirts.

I am really thankful to you, Mary Lou, in many ways. You the sweet spirit that is yours, the love of life and nature that you have, the ideals that you have inspired in me, and the good opinion you gave my folks, Lig, and norm of the school and the Church. I’m thankful for you having Lig stay with you and your showing her around.

It’s been nice knowing a real individual, one who really practices what she believes and yet is not obnoxious about it. I hope you keep on practicing your beliefs on not get sidetracked by us Californians. Maybe someday I will be fully convinced about your ways of thinking - and I’m being more persuaded all the time. Your interest in nature and outdoor life has given me an increased appreciation of life. Dee tells me that you put him to shame with knowledge of the outdoors and I will believe him. Maybe you can trap him next year.

I am sure glad that you hadn’t got over not turning anyone down for dates when I first met you. And in the same connection I think the best thing I got out of the second quarter Book of Mormon class we took together and getting to know you. Remember the day when I brought Naidaś Pogo book to class and we read it together and I learned who you were? Remember when I asked you to help on the Bible Bounce and you actually came? I still think you are the hardest girl to get a date with, with the many times you have turned me down. Remember the first date on March 5 when we went to the M-Men tournament and the show “Real Garters?” Remember our last date to the wonderful Bricker invitational on May 14, our 32nd date? You know, I took you out more times then anyone else ever and would gladly increase the string.

I still think that some of the times we’ve had together are among the best I’ve had ht the Y- the primie we had in Provo canyon, a couple of the dances we went to (even if I didn’t like to dance particularly as I told you before).

Maybe if you are still loose and fancy-free by the time I return to the Y we can get together, eh? Well, anyway, don’t do anything rash unless consulting me first (or Dee if I am not available).

Could be that our association has done me more than some good by teaching me something good and wonderful to look to in courtship.

Be careful of Theo and all the other BYU wolves and remember me when you feel low. Don’t forget about me this summer and drop me a line sometimes, please ?!?

Good luck and get the best of everything out of life-exactly what you deserve. I’m not going to be able to forget about you easily, Mary Lou. I’ll write you once in a while.

Love,

Dick Mendosa

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thesestoriesofours · 6 years

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Memories.

I changed my mind.

Love plays a huge part in so many people’s lives. But it is the whole fabric that brings us all together.

Posts will likely be extending to memories -- short, long, and ones that are just there.

As always, please feel free to share :) I love hearing your stories

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