EPTWe had intended to take pictures while she was here, but it just...sort of slipped the mind. So, no pictures for now, though you can see an old one of mine (bit more filled out, shorter haircut, don't keep facial hair anymore) in the TL Gallery that mnm maintains. Pictures were thought about on occasion, but when you've just spent months and months apart you don't want to try to squeeze in every little thing you want to do in just two weeks time.
That's the dilemma. Having so much of so many different wants, but being unable to pursue them all without feeling like the time you had together was rushed. Being unable to pursue them at all when you're apart. You don't want the time together to just be events, you want it to also feel personal. So, you're forced to pick and choose, then wait for the next time to fulfill others. Problems arise from that by the simple fact that you must wait, as well as that you gain new wants over all that time alongside the old and constant ones.
I suppose I'll stop there and continue with the past now.
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So, where was I? Hmm. The beginning, the passing of letters. Our secret little romance. Yes.
That beginning was exciting and fun. We went to eachothers houses every day as before. We made up our own words and hand signals, so we could say things we couldn't otherwise say around other people. Blob was a letter, daju was an expression of happiness, we used sign language to tell eachother silently that we loved eachother, and we whispered it with butterflies in our stomachs and thrills in our hearts when we had those precious few moments alone. And "teasure" was...a sock. Not quite everything was romantic in nature. XD
It wasn't often, by the way, that we had time alone. We lived just three doors down from eachother and saw eachother every single day, but several factors contributed to us not having privacy. First off, her mother was very controlling; they had early curfews, early bedtimes, and set rules for where they could go. To add onto that, all three of my siblings (who were alive at the time, as I've four now) were friends with her and one of her brothers as well.
So, the time we had together every day was under constant scrutiny. In fact, that is more true than I first state, as her mother actually started using Jacqueline's brother to spy on her while she was at my house. Gives you a bit of an idea, eh? What all of this essentially means is that our relationship mostly evolved in our letters. The written words which we used to express ourselves, however sappily that tended to be. Poems were writ constantly, letters were passed daily, and it was not unusual for the page count to be in the teens during each of those passings. We had much to say, much to tell eachother, that we could never express openly or physically.
It went on like this for more than a year. At the time only about six people knew, not including myself and Jacqueline. My sister, my mother, my best friend, and some of Jacqueline's friends. That was soon to change. One night, my youngest brother at the time saw me hiding away one of my letters. I don't know the exact details that follow, but he took that letter, read it himself, and then showed it to Jacqueline's brother. Who in turn told his mother.
Jacqueline came over that morning with a bruise on the back of her head, made by a frying pan.
She told her mother that it was over, that she would break up with me. She didn't, of course, as she was strong and, well, probably liked rebelling against her mother.
But, the blow was dealt and we would have to be even more secretive than ever over the next year. Little did we expect that soon, letters would be all we had in ways more prominent than ever before...
