HOW DO YOU SPELL LOVE?

HOW DO YOU SPELL LOVE?

She’s always had love in her life, Chelsea thought, as she sat staring into the nothingness of her bedroom wall. She had a love for music, singing, creating, animals and hanging out with friends. But that was common love, not the kind that could break her heart, made her act goofy, or kept her up at night because she couldn’t keep herself from picturing a future with a particular person. It wasn’t until much later though that this would become part of her life, when she actually stumbled across the person that would become what she called, “Her person”.

At 15, Chelsea transferred from a prestigious school in a busy city, to a school in a much smaller town. She never had difficulty in making new friends, and even though she kept her emotions close to her heart, she quickly became a confidant to those around her. The thought of trusting someone, anyone, has always unsettled her….the how and who to allow inside the walls that she had built after her parents’ divorce.

She’s always remained true to her nature however, and to the mantra by which she lived, “Fortune favours the bold”. With her strong, outgoing personality it didn’t’ take long before she was part of a close circle of friends, boys and girls. Her lean, feminine built, long blonde hair and soft hazel green eyes didn’t hurt either.

The daily motions of the new school and extra-curricular activities soon became routine, but her social life was booming with excitement and a variety of personalities seeking her attention, Chelsea remembered. With a smile she recalled the love she had felt for each of her close friends. So platonic, it couldn’t be flatter than that first pancake that always was a flop.

Chelsea decided early in her childhood what she wanted from life and adjusted her vision towards it. She was aware of the issues people around her experienced with being in love, being in relationships, being married. For her, romantic love only caused heartache and pain, and was so not worth the trouble. She was sure it would keep her from achieving her goals and that was ultimately the reason why she remained unattainable where romance and serious relationships were concerned. She did however become close friends with a girl named Mireille, to such a point that they called each other their best friends.

Without letting her walls down or letting anyone get too close, Chelsea remained casual friends with the rest of the teenagers in her circle, boys and girls. Until one day, when she allowed herself to take a longer­-than-usual glance at Clay, a dark haired boy with an athletic built, broad white smile and chocolate brown eyes filled with mischief and emotion. He was popular with the girls, captain of the rugby team, good in athletics, a nice all rounder.

It was many years ago, but Chelsea could still recall the unfamiliar stirring in her stomach. She struggled to get him out of her mind, constantly day dreaming about this boy. Doing what she seldom, if ever did, Chelsea confided in her best friend, Mireille. To her surprise, and perhaps irritation with herself, it seemed that the feeling she was experiencing was the figurative butterflies in the stomach, and to her horror, possibly being in love.

Because of school activities, and him being part of her circle of friends, Chelsea and Clay had spend a reasonable amount of time together, getting to know each other. The bond that slowly formed between them, sharing thoughts on life, laughing at crazy teenage perceptions, just enjoying friendships apart from school, made Chelsea comfortable enough to invite him on a family weekend trip. Whether it was his physique, his intelligence or the fact that they could talk for hours on end, never getting bored with each other…there was just something about Clay that peeked Chelsea’s interest.

Seasons changed and one day disappeared into the next. Soon they found themselves almost at the end of their second last school year. Chelsea can’t remember the exact moment in time, but suddenly she and Clay was an item, an adorable couple and the object of jealousy for many hopeful romantics in school. Clay was kind-hearted, intelligent, funny, a true gentleman and soft spoken. He made her feel secure and happy. Happy that she had relinquished her anti-romantic love attitude and given him a chance to prove her wrong. Chelsea grimaced. Little did she and those poor suckers at school know that Chelsea’s world was going to be seriously ruffled before the year was over.

Looking at her phone, Chelsea recalled the text from Clay on that horrible day. He broke the news to her via text, propelling her hurt, anger and humiliation to dangerous levels. How do you tell a person over text that you’re breaking up? That you should both enjoy your holiday without any responsibilities or attachments? It tore Chelsea’s heart and her trust in love into shreds. The one time that she dared open herself up to experience something more than platonic, friendship-like love….uughh!

During the holidays, Chelsea survived the breakup by going to music festivals and social outings with friends which excluded Clay, opening up her mind to new experiences and meeting new people, even having a silly crush on someone she befriended and who had enjoyed the festivities of the holidays with her and her friends. And when the new school year started, Chelsea’s mind was calm and almost rebooted, ready to concentrate on her last year at school, her senior year.

Chelsea and Clay were both elected to the school leadership programme. This meant that they would be spending a lot of time in each other’s company in the year ahead, once again. Daily dealing with him, she remembered Clay’s regret about his decision to break up with her. But she wasn’t anybody’s fool, and not ready to forgive him or analyse whether she still harboured feelings for him. It was easier to push whatever was coiling inside her, deep down into the darkest depths where it could remain hidden. Shrugging, Chelsea remembered fondly how her mom wasn’t going to make it easy for the boy that hurt her daughter to get close to her again, anyway.

The months sped by, each day bustling with activities, studies, and of course a typical teenager’s life. Prom was approaching, and all the girls were hopeful to be asked by their secret (and not so secret) crushes. Chelsea had invited the friend whom she had met during the holidays, to accompany her to the Prom. Smiling, Chelsea remembered Mireille telling her that Clay wanted her to go with him, but she was still hurt and guarded her heart with extra caution. She secretly felt relieved that she wasn’t put in a position to decline Clay’s invitation because she wasn’t sure what she still felt for him.

Continuing her path down memory lane, Chelsea, who was sitting on her bed, reached down to take a photo album out of her bedside table, her long hair falling softly around her shoulders. She slowly paged through the album, some of the pages sticking together, maybe because of age but mostly she guessed, because she hadn’t looked at the pictures in a long while.

Prom had a pretty exciting vibe to it and according to her friends, Chelsea, who by then had changed her long blonde hair to midnight black, looked breathtakingly stunning in a deep dark-red gown tailor-made by her Gran to fit her feminine posture. Her partner had dressed to match her gown and colour scheme and looked very handsome. Together they had made a “cover page impression”- or at least that was the compliments they were showered with.

Her gaze fell on the pictures of her friends and classmates, but she was particularly interested in those of Clay and his partner of the evening. Did she imagine it, or did he look as though he wasn’t enjoying himself as much? A feeling of bittersweet revenge glimmered in the back of her mind, but Chelsea quickly closed the photo album and stood up, standing at the window overlooking the backyard.

There was still life after Prom and things returned to normal…school, studies, extra-curricular activities, and her 18^th birthday. To celebrate her 18^th year, Chelsea had dinner with her family, followed by a whirlwind “abduction” by- and outing with her closest girlfriends. As the night grew older, Chelsea’s friends left the get together one after the other, leaving only herself and Mireille to the celebrations. Mireille hadn’t confided in Chelsea yet about the new boy she had met and became involved with….and who was friends with Clay. This resulted in Chelsea being very surprised and irritated when Mireille’s new friend, accompanied by Clay, join them. It was getting late anyway, and Chelsea knew she would be heading home soon.

In the early morning hours the party of four, being very hungry after all the celebrating, drove around to find something to eat. Chelsea was cold, tired and ready to go home and get some shut eye, when Clay asked whether she wanted something to eat. Chelsea spent most of the night ignoring Clay and didn’t really bother to answer him. It seemed to her, however, that Clay was working very hard to try and salvage their friendship, and if at all possible, gain some of her trust again. She was sitting in the back seat and still didn’t say anything as he draped his jacket over her. Ignoring her silence, he bought her a toasted sandwich from the petrol station’s little takeaway shop. A bacon, cheese and tomato toasted sandwich, which tasted delicious. But she still refused to respond.

The weekend after Chelsea’s 18^th birthday, Mireille invited her on an outing with her and her new boyfriend. At first Chelsea declined, not wanting to be the third wheel, but when Mireille casually mentioned that Clay would also be joining them, Chelsea’s heart skipped a beat, in a way forcing her to accept the invitation. What did it matter anyway if Clay would be there or not, he broke up with her, she was tired of sitting at home.

Chelsea enjoyed the evening much more than she would admit, and as the four of them drove home, she even participated in the sing-along with the music playing over the radio. When they dropped her off, Clay got out of the car and they walked up to the door in silence. A million little scenarios played in Chelsea’s head, but when he politely asked if he could visit her the following day, she didn’t know whether to smile or slap him.

These days, when Chelsea’s memories take a few laps into her past and their senior year, she regrets the resentment, hurt and anger, the distrust and irritation, the stupid vengeful plans that her injured heart concocted, and mostly the wasted time she and Clay spent away from each other, wasted time when they could be building a love so precious and true that it didn’t need a ring or a ceremony to affirm their feelings for each other.

Once upon a time Chelsea hated Clay for making her feel so giddy and helpless, as if she was dependent on him to function as an individual, making her break down her defences and then leaving her in the cold. Since their hearts and souls found each other again, she realised that he would always want the best for her. Even realising that maybe he didn’t want to get hurt all those years back, giving her back her freedom to do as she wished during the holiday without feeling guilty…..almost losing her because of his decision. She would never hurt him, but back then he didn’t know that.

Today, as with every day since they got back together, she had loved him for making her strong, supporting her ambitious nature, motivating her when things were tough, being the one who curbed her spending habits because they were saving for some or other piee of furniture for their home, calming her when she went on a rampage about work stuff, allowing her the freedom to breath her own air and remain an individual….two parts working as a whole.

Their love has never been a clearly outright fact, something that could be defined on a piece of paper….like Piglet and Pooh….

How do you spell love? ~Piglet~

                               You don’t spell it, you feel it….. ~Pooh~