This Is Not a Love at First Sight Story | Teen Ink

This Is Not a Love at First Sight Story

November 1, 2009
By nicotrevizo BRONZE, Columbia, Maryland
nicotrevizo BRONZE, Columbia, Maryland
3 articles 0 photos 0 comments

Favorite Quote:
&quot;We are not special. We are not crap or trash either. We simply just are. We just are, and whatever happens , happens.&quot;<br /> -Chuck Palahniuk


She walked in, book in her left hand, reading it in full focus yet still swiftly avoiding each obstacle infront of her. I suppose it would be proper to describe her appearance, although I could never do her justice. Her hair was a brown umber. It was the shade of redwood flooring you find in nice restaurants and elaborate houses. Her hair too, could be compared to the floor of an extravagant house in other ways. At first hair and floor are both really important and attractive, but as you learn more and more they mean less. You walk into a house, adore the floor, then as you walk further in, you notice the fireplace and crown molding and the flood just becomes one more thing to love about the entirety. Her hair wass also so hypnotizing, moving with every movement of the body, flowing so smoothly. Waves of the ocean with each step. Not moving in fast jerks or spastic movements like the rest of the body. The only part of the body in slow motion. Her body was great. No flaws at all, and perfect skin. It was real skin. Not synthetic and manufactured like all other women. From the second I saw her walk in reading the copy of the book I had just returned to the library, I could tell she wore no makeup. In the end, that’s what made all the difference. In the beginning too, I suppose. It is incredible to see something so fresh and real. Like a newborn adult, fully developed but still full of innocence. Not knowing the horrors of humanity, not knowing how often she is being lied to. She obviously wasn’t like me. She was already starting to get wrinkles around her lips. Subtle, like the lines left in the sand from the ripples as the waves pull back into the ocean, bringing all the sand they can take with them. The wrinkles not being from stress or anxiety, but from her smile. I never got a chance to see her not smiling, not without a face of total satisfaction. She ordered her drink smiling, even laughed at the elementary joke the guy behind the counter muttered out. It wasn’t a pity laugh. I could see she thought it was genuinely funny, and I couldn’t even believe the guy had the guts to say it. I would have never said a joke to a stranger, let alone a joke that childish. I’m sure if it were anyone else it would have resulted in awkward silence and bad tension. The probability of somebody laughing at a joke like that were not high enough to risk the chances. The joke just isn’t worth it. She smiled as she sat and smiled as she sipped. After each sip, stopping, closing her eyes and letting it all sink in I suppose. It wasn’t like each sip was as good as the first. I know that once these hot drinks get half empty the drink starts to get cold. Losing all its flavor to the bottom, leaving you with one last sip too sweet to handle. She apparently thought that sip was just as good as the first based on her serene facial expressions. It was as if she was living in a commercial. Not real acting and always satisfied with whatever she is endorsing. I could tell she wasn’t acting, and her endorsement, life. As if it was so perfect and everyone was lovely to each other. False advertising. That’s why I can’t stand commercials. People don’t really use everything with the logo facing forward, and nobody opens caps or packages first try. No one tries a new flavor knowing for a fact they will love it. I always proceed with caution when trying anything new. Or don't try it at all. Why risk losing money for something you don't like, when you can have the insurance of what you already know? She got a new drink. I know because she asked the guy behind the counter for his recommendation. I would never trust a guy like that with anything, let alone a recommendation. He looked high and as if he hadn't showered in days. If I were his boss I would fire him solely based on his appearence. And how would he know a drink she would like? They obviously just met since the first thing she did was introduce herself and shake his hand. I'm no germaphobe, but i wouldn't touch that guy if I didn't have to. Either way, they both got lucky since she obviously liked each sip and thanked him by name as she headed out. She walked out of the place with he chin high and that content look on her face. Like she couldn't believe the goodness of the world. So satisfied with humanity and life in general. Sooner or later she would understand how false all those thoughts are. How all the faces are fake and how niave she was for believing it all. I already knew. And I know that theres is nothing you can do about it.

The author's comments:
analyze the little stuff. read between the lines like your english teachers say.

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