Somewhere Beyond Forever

If you are looking for a love story—one where the clichés of love at first sight and happily ever after are expected, where some beautiful blonde in a ball gown loses her shoe, or where the raven-haired maiden is poisoned with an apple by a wicked old witch—then you might as well just stop reading now. Because this just isn’t one of those stories. This is different. I’m not a princess, he’s not a prince—although he was pretty close in more ways than one—and we definitely didn’t live in a fairytale. This, my dear friends, is real; a real-life love story, a real-life romance that just so happened to be mine.

We lived in Small Town, America; a tiny town called Hamlin, located on the inner part of Maine. My family kept residence in a two-story house on Spruce Street, with blue shutters and an apple tree in the front yard. I had six siblings—five younger and one older—who drove me up the wall half of the time, but in no way, shape, or form were they even close to the evil step siblings that most fairytales seemed to convey. I was just your average girl, and he was your average boy. There was just one thing that separated us from the rest of the world: we were absolutely crazy about each other. But it wasn’t always like that, not in the beginning. Before, we were nothing more than friends; the best of friends.

You see, our love for each other was pure. He loved me, I loved him, and that was that. There was absolutely nothing more to it—well, unless you counted jealous ex-boyfriends and a few random, near-death experiences that could have possibly ruined the lives of the entire universe in .5 seconds. But anyway, what I am really trying to say, is that our relationship was nothing like those sappy romance novels that my mother enjoys reading in the bathtub. No, our love was something completely different. It was something extraordinary; something unique and special in every way.

We both had our flaws. Neither of us were perfect; yet together, we were pretty close. We brought out the best in one another. Separately, we may not have looked to be soul mates. But that first glance was nothing compared to the magic that sparked between us when we were together. And no matter how insane or impossible it may seem, we did end up with a fairytale romance. Things didn’t always run smoothly, and we turned the term “rocky relationship” into a complete and utter understatement. Yet when you really got down to the nitty-gritty, knocking away any of the harsh words that I have previously used to describe such things happening in real life, it was impossible to deny.

First off though, let me repeat what I have already said: I am no princess. I am not the damsel in distress that normally fits the leading role in every classic fairytale. I don’t toss my fifty feet of golden hair over balconies so that prince charming can yank out my tangles with his greasy hands like Rapunzel. I have always been way too scared of my mother’s wrath to hop onto a flying carpet with the king of thieves like Jasmine. I have never cleaned kitchen floors with a group of singing rodents on my windowsill like Cinderella. I couldn’t be paid a million dollars to kiss Chewbacca’s cousin like Belle, even if he really was just a normal guy with a beastly curse. And no way would I ever trust some random old woman with a wand for anything, just like every single Disney princess who has ever flashed across your television screen. I wasn’t a princess, after all. I was me, whether or not anybody else liked it or not. But that was okay—me being me instead of a princess, that is. Because he—although every girl between the ages of ten and seventeen would probably disagree—definitely wasn’t your average prince charming.

He was a trouble maker at times—a nice kid with a rebellious side—and a complete sweetheart when it was necessary. Parents thought he was a good kid, when in all reality, he really was. He was kind-hearted and loyal, and always there for people when they needed a shoulder to cry on, or just somebody to talk to. But even through all of his good qualities; like his eccentric personality, and especially that gorgeous brunette hair, he was still just a normal guy. He was your average All-American teenage boy, with bonus points because of his dazzling smile. But there was more to it. He may not have been prince charming, but damn, was he so close.

Anyone would be blessed to have him in their life. His parents adored him, looking past his glitches and juvenile behavior. My parents even adored him, saying things like “oh, isn’t he such a nice boy?” and “his parents must be so proud.” I guess it was just who he was that made every little thing he did so spectacular.

When people heard his name around town, they couldn’t help but smile. He was practically worshiped in our small town. Even when he was younger, only ten years old, he stole all of our hearts; including mine. And that was how we ended up with what we got—love.

Some might call it luck—although I did consider myself pretty lucky, you know, considering how absolutely gorgeous the boy was—others might call it fate, but truthfully, it was destiny. We were meant for each other, and we both knew it.

After all, how could two people with so much in common, best friends practically since birth, both with a crazy attraction towards the other not end up together in the end? Neither of us may have seen it coming at first, but once it actually happened, we knew there was a legitimate reason. There had to be.

But before we fell in love, before our feelings were released and we were engulfed in a splendor of happy-go-lucky romance, we were far from a fairytale couple. I was just Olivia, a socially-awkward wallflower with a whole lot to learn about the workings of high school. Then there was him—he was gorgeous and talented, motivated and determined, looked up to or smiled upon by nearly everyone… Let’s just say that he was the closest thing to a real-life prince charming that the state of Maine, not to mention the town of Hamlin, had ever seen.

So there we were. We were just two kids with so much to gain, and so much more to lose. And to think that we ended up where we are now, well, it just didn’t seem real. It never happened in real life, only in the movies and those stupid sappy bathtub novels that I seem to bring up a lot when talking about my story. But my story—our story—was not a thing like something that you have ever read, watched, or even heard of. Our story was simple; short, sweet, and magical in every way possible. We proved reality wrong.

Simply said, he was the best thing that has, had, or will ever happen to me. After everything that we went through,after eighteen years of heartbreak and craziness and laughter, we ended up together in the end. After all, he was everything that I could have ever wanted. He was my lifeline, my supporter, and my shoulder to cry on. He was my next door neighbor and my partner-in-crime… he was it all.

His name was Jason Nathaniel Beckford, and he just so happened to be my best friend.