I don’t know if you would call our love normal. Some may even say our love is not healthy, or he loves me in a crazy obsessive way. . .but I have come to realize, we are the only two people who need to understand us. The way this man makes me feel is amazing. Just hearing his voice instantly relaxes me, my eyes close and I exhale. He loves me, to death. I believe he would do anything in the world for me and I also believe he would never cheat on me. This is coming from the mouth of a woman who created the SAHW Website, the woman who believes most men in the world can’t be faithful. But he is just different. He loves me in a way, I am not too sure many people have experienced. We are just different. We have always been different.
He called me this morning and asked me if I watched the video yet. He has been begging me to watch this video for days and I just forgot. So when he was on the phone today, I grabbed my laptop and watched this video for him. It’s now 16 hours later, and I am still thinking about this song and us. He saw it and it reminded him of us. A story of a girl and guy who were in love. They were crazy about each other and the video flashes back to show them as young kids. Ironically, the guy has blonde hair and the girl is a tan skinned dark-haired girl. Yeah, it reminded me of us too, especially some of the lyrics and the guy who can’t seem to stay out of trouble. This song took me back to when we were kids.
I don’t remember everything about high school, but when he speaks to me about things we did, I remember like it was yesterday. Today we took a trip down memory lane.
When we were in high school, raves became very popular. A whole bunch of kids would be in a warehouse and techno music would be blaring. If you went to a rave, you were high. Most of the kids at raves were high off of ecstasy pills or angel dust. I was never really fond of techno music, but I would go to the raves just to be with him. Everyone we were with would always be high, but not me. Continue reading “A Trip Down Memory Lane. . .”