Silence. Trees, tall and strong. A babbling brook to wash away all the stresses of the world. Stars as bright as diamonds, the moon like a beacon of hope illuminating everything in sight. Flowers and bushes and plants growing and existing in their natural state. Nature is beautiful, not in the way our society likes to define beauty. The birds do not worry about the way their wings look, as they soar across the sky. The flowers do not care about their own shape and color. A tall bright sunflower does not envy the small, delicate rose. Nature is beautiful without trying. It is peaceful. It is still. It is silent. No people to pollute this secluded oasis. This was where she belonged, away from those who would manipulate and use and hurt her. Away from friends who were not friends, teachers who only taught her to fear, a family she couldn’t please. Away from insecurities, fears, and most importantly, away from herself. Away from the harsh judgements, the hatred, the incessant criticism that she imposed upon herself. Here, in this spot by the river, deep into the woods, all those thoughts were silent. Beautiful, peaceful, safe, silence.
Lila is, on the outside, a very typical seventeen year old. She loved animals, coffee, and her iPod. She loathed school, hospitals, and people in general. Lila is very tan with brown hair, a smidge on the chubby side, and is about 5 and a half feet tall. She is in love with at least three fictional characters at any given time. And if you ask her about it, she will give you an hour long dissertation about why Percy Jackson is the perfect man. Lila was abnormally in love with books. If you were to see her at any given moment, you would only see her eyes because the other half of her face would be hidden by her latest novel. But her eyes were enough. At first glance, they were a bright crystal blue. If you looked long enough though, you would see the grey stormclouds hidden behind that ocean blue, the stormclouds that were a telltale sign of the lurking sadness that she carried with her. Today, that book was “Its kind of a funny story” by Ned Vizzini. And that’s incredibly ironic, because today, I looked for too long into those baby blues. And what resulted, is definitely, kind of a funny story.
My name is Jack. Jack Daniel actually. You could say my parents had a unique sense of humor. I’m about 5 foot 1, I have blond hair, glasses, and I never really grew out of that whole awkward acne thing. All of this contributed to some less than awesome teenage years. Lila and I are both Juniors. I never really noticed her until this year. Looking back I don’t really know why that is. Maybe I was too focused on myself, or maybe she didn’t want to be noticed. It doesn’t really matter now anyway, because we did meet. So this is that story. The story of how I met the most perfect person ever, and how we fell in love.
It all started with Ms. Rogers. She hated me. Ms. Rogers was my math teacher. I think it takes a very special person to be a math teacher. You have to be comfortable with ruining peoples lives every single day. Ms. Rogers fit the bill perfectly. On this particular day, I had done the wrong math assignment, and therefore had to stay after class to be lectured about it. Ms. Rogers, being the angry and sad person that she is, refused to write me a pass for my next class. So as soon as she let me leave, I ran. I was not about to be late to AP Euro again. I grabbed my 100 pound bag of crap and bolted out the door. I don’t know why Lila was meandering through the hall 30 seconds before the bell rang. Her book must’ve been really good I guess. Either way, she was so focused on the book that it was a miracle the girl was even able to walk in a straight line. I was running, and not expecting anyone to be in the hall this late, so I wasn’t exactly anticipating to slam into something as I rounded the corner into the social studies section of the school. Books, papers, pencils… everywhere. And then the bell rang. I know it’s not much of a meet cute, but this is the real story. Since the bell had already rung, I decided I might as well stay and help the poor girl clean up her crap. After all it was my fault.
“I swear to god, if you lost my place in that book, I will personally gouge your eyes out.”
Those were the first words she said to me. Romantic, right? She was looking at me like her eyes could have burned a hole through my skull.
“Im so so so sorry… really so sorry, I didn’t see you I’m so sorry.” I just kept mumbling variations of that the entire time I was picking up her books. As I was helping her get her stuff together, I couldn’t help but notice what was in her bag, or really, what wasn’t.  I wasn’t creeping, or at least I wasn’t trying to. No folders, just notebooks. And a LOT of books. Not textbooks, novels, every genre. The first edition of The Walking Dead comic book, science fiction books, contemporary novels, even a biography about Princess Diana. When I picked up one of her notebooks, a tsunami of papers fell out. Drawings and paintings. Beautiful ones. She was inspecting her laptop to make sure it was ok when she realized i was taking a bit too long cleaning up.
“ Hey!” she said, “What the hell are you doing?”. I had made the grave mistake of picking up another notebook, and i actually started reading it. It was a poetry notebook. I recognize that this is probably not my best move. I never claimed to be Rico Suave. I had this beautiful, actually, she wasn’t ‘typical’ beautiful. She was intriguing. Mesmerizing. Unconventionally beautiful, girl sitting inches away from me. I was curious, and very out of my element. And I had royally pissed her off. She grabbed the rest of her stuff out of my hand and shoved it into her bag and took off down the hall. I got up, went to AP Euro, and went on with my day. I couldn’t stop thinking about her though. I only knew her name because we had been in some classes before, but we had never really met. I was hooked in a way, I was determined to find out more about this mysterious girl. 
The rest of the day felt like walking through a pool of play doh. Crazy frustrating and crazy slow. I could not get this girl out of my mind, and I could not stop running through scenarios in which I handled the situation much better. I was determined to get to know her better and understand her and just see her. So I devised a plan. While I didn’t know Lila that well, I knew someone who did. Katie, her best friend/seperated at birth sister. Katie was in my U.S. history class sixth hour, and if i wanted to know anything about Lila, Katie was the one to talk to. Only problem, we never talked. there was absolutely no way for me to randomly ask her about her best friend without seeming completely creepy. So I pretended that I had a book Lila wanted to borrow. A viable excuse, I could ask Katie where I could find Lila after school, meet her, and hope for the best. This would totally work. Brilliant. I had this in the bag. 
The following is an accurate account of my second meeting with Lila.
“Hi, ummm, I was really sorry about bumping into you today, so, ummm, I bought you this.” I had gone after school and bought the second edition of The Walking Dead comic. Katie had told me that Lila goes to starbucks after school everyday and reads, so I bought the book and drove right over.
“How did you know I’d be here?”, she said.
“Katie.”
“Remind me to slap her.”
“Do you mind if I sit down?”
“Why?”
“Because I’m tired.”
“Fine.” We sat in silence for a solid fifteen minutes while she sipped on her caramel macchiato and gave me the most intimidating look a person her size could muster. I just looked at her, not in a creepy way, but I really looked at her. This was the exact moment her eyes totally swallowed me in like a tornado. She didn’t say anything. She didn’t have to. Somehow, I could see everything she was thinking. She was annoyed, but she was also curious. She didn’t understand why I was here and what I wanted. I didn’t either. She couldn’t tell if I was friend or foe, she’s jaded.
“I don’t know.” I finally said.
“What?”
“Why I’m here. I don’t know.” I told her that I realized we had never really met before today. I told her that something about her made me curious, but I didn’t know what. She stared at me, not speaking, for another ten minutes, before responding.
“So, let me just clarify, you tackled me into the ground, poked around my backpack, and now you want to get to know me?”
“Pretty Much.”
“Alright then. What do you want to know?”
We talked for a solid hour. She told me about her cats, her family, her friends, and a lot about her favorite books. I told her about my incredibly boring family, my typical school day, and my pet snail named Jim. She laughed. I never knew a laugh could be so satisfying. When she laughed I felt like I could do anything, like I was carefree and happy. And when we didn’t talk it wasn’t awkward, It was peaceful.
The next week was so different. I felt like I had a new friend, which was a big deal because I didn’t have many of those. Lila and I would meet at starbucks everyday after school. She would tell me stories about her crazy, interesting, amazing life. She had an uncle who was in the mafia, she had a million stories about him. She would tell me stories about when she was younger, sometimes happy, sometimes sad. She always talked about books. I made her laugh. Making her laugh was my biggest goal. It wasn’t always easy. Lila had good days and bad days. She wasn’t exactly popular either, so school was a challenge. That was something we connected on. That was also part of the reason I loved making her laugh, she was incredibly guarded in some ways. She didn’t like to talk about herself very much, her life was fair game, but her thoughts, feelings, ideals, all of those we safely kept under lock and key. Every time I could make her smile or laugh I felt like I could get a little bit closer to unlocking that side of her.
After two months of our starbucks routine, I forgot what it was like to not have Lila in my life. she started letting me drive her to starbucks after school, and driving her around became my favorite chore. After three months, she let me pick her up in the mornings to. She started opening up to me about things that were previously off the table for discussion. She let me read her poetry and see her artwork, which was a huge deal for her. She told me about how she was insecure about her weight and her physical appearance. I knew when to push it and when not to. All i had to do was look at her, i could read her eyes like a book. I noticed how bright they were when she was happy, and how cloudy they could be when she was pissed off. I even could tell when she was about to sneeze because she would do this funny squinting thing right before. I knew her and she knew me. We had this connection that I don’t think either of us understood but both of us needed. I needed a friend, and she needed someone who understood her. I had what I needed and so did she, now I had to think about what I wanted. I didn’t want to be just friends with her anymore, I wanted her to feel the same way about me that I felt about her. Now I just had to wait for the right time to tell her.
So as it turns out, timings not really my thing.  Every time I wanted to ask her to be my girlfriend, I got chicken. I missed some really amazing opportunities. Prom, her birthday, homecoming, winter dance, last day of school, fourth of july, I missed them all. I waited an entire year. I stuck with driving her around, and Starbucks, and hanging out in the park or going out for chinese food for an entire year. I waited until we graduated. When Lila turned eighteen, she moved into a small apartment near my house. She and her parents had never been all that close, so after she graduated it seemed like a no brainer. She took her beloved cat, Edna, with her of course. This actually worked out for me, I thought. Maybe being out of hell (A.K.A. high school) would give me the confidence boost i needed. So a few weeks after graduation I went over to her appartment, determined to ask her out on a real date. She gave me a spare key, But I still knocked first. I didn’t hear anything, so I went in. I gave Edna a polite pat on the head and called Lilas name. No response. This was weird, her car was here wasn’t it? I checked again, it was. I looked through her entire apartment and found nothing. Edna followed me around, if a cat could look concerned, she did. It was seven pm, so it’s not like she was out for a leisurely walk or a bike ride. It was dark. I grabbed my coat and a flashlight and went outside.
“Lila?!” I yelled. “Where are you?!” I noticed that behind her apartment there was a creek and some woods. Lila thought nature was beautiful but I wasn’t sure she would wander out into the woods if she was in a right state of mind. I kept calling her name to no avail. I walked over to where her backyard ended and the woods began. I saw what looked like a trail. I followed it, against my own instinct. I am not by any means a nature guy. It’s the one place Lila and I differ. She loves the unknown, the simplicity, the raw realness of nature. Quite frankly it scares the hell out of me. So I was not exactly thrilled to be wandering into the woods in the dark by myself. I kept calling her name. I must have been a half mile in when I tripped on a log. The rough terrain and my stumbling feet did not go well together. In the low vantage point, I saw something I didn’t before. I saw a Shadow that wasn’t a tree or a shrub or a bush, it didn’t look like an animal or a rock either. I Slowly arose, just in case it was a bloodthirsty animal. I walked over to the mysterious shadow, when I heard the most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard in my life.
Tears. Her tears. Lila was tough and guarded, I had only heard her cry once, but I could never forget it. It was when her first cat died.I remember it because I tried so hard to make it stop. The sound of her cry was seared into my brain. “Lila!” i shouted as I ran toward her, tripping and stumbling over twigs and rocks and practically launching myself into her lap. “OH MY GOD! I thought you were like, kidnapped or something what the hell are you doing out here?”. She seemed oddly not surprised to see me as she said,
“Do you remember when I told you that I had some anxiety issues as a kid?” .
Apparently Lila has always had a thing for the woods. Whenever she got stressed out, she would run into the woods behind her family's house. She would sit there until she felt better. She explained to me how the simplistic beauty of nature calmed her. How she tried to be like the flowers, the brush, the woods themselves really, and just exist with no expectation of what she needed to do or be to please other people. The woods understood her and protected her. so even as a mature 18 year old, she came back to the woods when she felt sad or anxious. So I sat with her, and I tried understand. And I did understand. I let her fall asleep on my shoulder, and eventually I fell asleep to, under the watchful eye of mother nature.
I woke up when the sun came up, which was approximately six a.m. I woke up Lila, who apologized profusely and I did my best to shut her up. I didn’t need her to tell me exactly what happened last night. I knew she was upset and she went to the woods for comfort, and that was all I needed to know. We walked back over to her apartment. She gave Edna a hug, and told me she needed to take a shower because she had twigs in her hair. I went into the living room and flipped on the TV. She had tivo’d five episodes of Criminal Minds, she had a thing for Dr. Reid, and so I started watching them. I have to admit I was really distracted, Lila was blasting “Say my Name” by Destiny’s Child in the bathroom and no doubt having the karaoke session of the century in there. It was really hard to focus, and even though I was watching a grisly murder on screen, I couldn’t help but laugh. This was why I came over here in the first place. She was the girl of my dreams, totally perfect. The only person in my life that I knew I would never be bored with, or mad at, or unhappy when I was around her. She was perfectly imperfect and that’s exactly what I wanted.
She came into the living room with her snowflake print sweatpants, her “Kiss me, I’m Irish” t-shirt, and a towel on her head. I thought she had never looked more beautiful. She sat cross legged on the comfy suede couch next to me.
“So Jack, i forgot to ask you, why did you come over here in the first place? I’m happy you did, but why?” She asked.
“Well, I actually came over here to ask you something, but I know you had a rough night so we can talk about it later if you want…” I said as I stood up to leave.
“Absolutely not. I’m totally fine now, and you came over here looking for me, found a crying girl in the woods, and decided to stay anyways. I owe you for that, so ask away.”
“I wanted to ask you if you’d be my girlfriend.” Oh my God did i really just say that. Stupid. I should have said something more smooth or romantic or literally anything else… but then, she kissed me. Am I dreaming? No, Lila is definitely kissing me right now. Then she stopped and said,
“Jack, do you know how long I’ve been waiting for you to ask me that?”
I replied, “No. No I don’t.”
“Since you gave me the second edition of The Walking Dead.” She said
Oh. My. God. I could have asked her a year ago. This was incredible. I was incredibly stupid. But at least I have her now. I had her, my crazy, adorable, book-loving Lila. And she had me. I think I got the better end of the deal. We sat and joked about how silly it was that we were both to afraid to ask the other. Lila let me stay the night at her apartment, and we ordered chinese, and got caught up on Criminal Minds, and made out a lot. We were at at home when we were together. Lila was my forest. If I was with her everything was ok. It was pretty great. I’m not gonna say that our relationship was perfectly perfect in every way, because that doesn’t exist, but it was pretty darn close. We were meant to be together, and now we were.  I know now that even though I hated her at the time, Ms. Rogers gave me the best thing I’ve ever had. So thank you Ms. Rogers, you gave me Lila, and she’s my forest, my safe haven, my love.