Find A Way

She's not one for dances. Typical drunk, horny people groping each other to a song with no lyrics. It's displeasing to the eye, but some actually enjoy seeing a clothed porn. She went to her high school dances in the hopes that the one special guy would ask her to dance to the slowest possible song. If he did, she would anxiously wait for the sparks or butterflies or whatever the hell you're supposed to feel. Then, they'd get lost in each other's eyes and kiss in front of everyone. Her expectations were too high.

Yeah, that special guy asked her to dance. Several times, but a different guy each time. In her eyes before the dance, they were gods. Seemingly perfect with looks that could kill, but while dancing with them she finally saw their true colors. Drunks, cheaters, liars, and complete asses. They were all the same; all except one.

They were friends, both damaged from previous relationships. Hers ended because he found someone "better" and his ceased because she stopped caring about him. Both crushed and broken, they took refuge in each other. They shared in pain and heartaches. She feared she would end up alone, just like her mother. He felt he could never love someone again. They struggled through the awkward high school years together and at graduation they parted ways.

She went to college, not the best but she made it through. She majored in journalism, her one true love. She knew no matter how many times she was hurt or let down, she could always rely on nouns, verbs, adjectives, and adverbs to be there to remind her of all the pain she went through. "He violently ripped your carefully mended heart out and tore it into pieces." She knew with constant reminders that she would prove to all the heart breakers that they should be careful of who they let go.

As for him, he stayed with his music. He didn't believe school was meant for him. Instead, he sat in his broken end apartment strumming on his guitar, writing songs for his long lost love knowing there was no way she would come back to him. He found his way by playing in a coffee shoppe, trying to make a name for himself. He knew he'd never make it in life, he wasn't good enough for anyone, not even himself. He struggled with his identity and tried to find himself in one night stands. Needless to say, he felt nothing and knew his nightmare had come true. He couldn't love and no one could possibly love him.

At the coffee shoppe around noon, he stumbled in with the local newspaper. He plopped down into his regular booth in the corner. He sat on the side that didn't have the slight tear in the cushion. He tore open the crinkled news and scanned the contents. He was uninterested until he came across a poem:

"Forget me, forget me not,
Whichever you prefer.
You are you and I am not.
I choose to remember you.
You meant something to me,
And that says a lot.
Count the minutes you wish you had
Because there is nothing left
For you without me.
Out of luck and out of time,
You remember, but it is
Harder for me to remember
Than to forget."

He read it over a few times, trying to understand. He glanced at the author and recognized the name. He knew her. He felt himself reach for his phone and dial her number. To his disappointment, he was sent straight to her voicemail. His lip quivered as the beep rang in his ear.

"I need you." He heard himself say. He shook his head and hung up his phone.

At the office, she shut herself in her room. Writer's block was a regular occurrence and she felt herself going numb. Desperate for a break, she turned her phone on only to discover a voicemail. It was left by a boy she barely knew anymore. It had been years since they had spoken, but here was his voice only a button away. She stared at the screen, not sure what she should do. Editor, Chloe Mitchel walked into her office, noticing her unease.

"Everything alright?" Chloe asked with her thick British accent making "alright" sound like "awright." She hesitated and sluggishly fell into her chair.

"An old friend of mine called me recently. It's been awhile and I don't know what to say to him." She looked down and Chloe moved in to snatch her phone.

"That's awright, i'll give 'im a cull." Chloe said pressing the phone to her ear. "'ello? Yes, this is 'er phone, she's unable to come to the phone right now. May I ask who this is?" Her heart fell into her stomach thinking of his name. "Oh yes, I've 'eard of you. What's that? Yes, I know fo' a fact she is free tonoight." She sprung from her chair, ready to claw her phone back from Chloe. "The coffee shoppe on forty-ninth? Sure, what toime? Sounds good, love. She'll see you then." Chloe hung up handing the phone back. "Eight tonoight. Don't be late." Chloe winked leaving her office.

Heart attack, she must be having a heart attack. Her hands shook as she ran her fingers through her hair. A habit she developed whenever she got nervous. She needed to sit down. No, more than that. She needed a drink. Why him? Why now? After all this time. Why was she freaking out?

She flicked her arm forward to reveal her wrist watch. Almost three. In her mind it was early; in her heart there was not a lot of preparation time. She sprang from her seat and snagged her belongings. She brushed past everyone in her way. The adrenaline rush she mistook for a heart attack was becoming clear to her. In five hours, she would see the one guy that gave her hope and purpose. He wasn't like the rest of them. Different, unique, special, one-of-a-kind, state of the art, legendary, you name it and it's him.

Friday nights were always more packed than usual. He performed there all the time, but tonight he was finally nervous. His set was from seven to nine with a break in between. He knew every song from Journey to Lady Gaga, and even Free Bird by Lynyrd Skynyrd in case there was a douche bag in the house. This was all he had : The lights, the stage, the blisters, and Jayla, the name of his guitar given by the girl he would hopefully see tonight. The girl that made him feel something because she was something else; Something indescribably perfect. He needed her before he even realized it. She was his light at the end of his dark tunnel.

The clock ticked in rhythm with his strums. The closer it got to eight the more his heart raced. The crowd he had tonight was a wonderful set a people that had seen him before. Though his nerves turned into a depression when he noticed the time was creeping up on eight-thirty and there was no sign of her. He cleared his throat in the mic and sighed.

"This next song is an original. No lyrics, just acoustic." The bell to the coffee shoppe door rang and there she was. She made eye contact with him and he froze. He giggled into the mic and was heard by everyone there. "I actually wrote this song for a girl I once knew. She was my everything and she didn't know it. It's a relatively sad song because I let her slip away." I crowd awed as he smiled at her. "I always thought this song was for her to find me. I hope one day, it'll bring her back." He gave a small smirk in her direction and looked down at his guitar.

She was hypnotized by his song meant for her. She felt the emotion and pain within the chords. No words were ever needed for this song. She heard the beginning of it before. He had played it for her. She felt her heart swell as she recalled the moment he first played it.

"Sounds sad, what it is?" She asked flipping through his CD collection.

"A song I wrote." He whispered. She dropped his CDs and jumped on his bed next to him.

"You wrote a song?" She said filled with excitement.

"Yeah, it needs lyrics though." He set his guitar aside.

She tuned back to the finished product. The notes sang in her ears and filled her with emotion. She felt a droplet of water hang in the corner of her eye. The room roared for applause. He smiled at her, placing his guitar down. He stood up and left the stage. She knew he was walking towards her. Her face felt warm and rosy from embarrassment. Why was she embarrassed? It was just a song. The most beautiful song she had ever heard and it was for her. She couldn't hold it in and felt the tear finally escape her eye.

He didn't know what he was doing. He was drawn to her. Looking at her radiance, she was more beautiful than he remembered. The picture of perfection. The people around him moved aside so he could get through easily. He was in her presence now, taking in every ounce of beauty she had. He chuckled to himself praying this wasn't a dream. He dreamed about there meeting before, but this was real and way better than any dream. Inches from her, he couldn't hold himself back. He threw his arms around her small torso and took her in. She did the same, as well. Both in tears and overwhelmed, they knew this was the perfect fit.

"I knew you'd come back." He whispered to her.

"I always will." She answered in return.

You don't need to know our names or who we are. What you do need to understand is love exists. It exists if you believe it does. It's not a crush, it's something more complex than that. It takes your whole being: mind, body, soul, heart. It takes two people, fifty percent of effort from both. Love isn't easy, it wasn't meant to be easy. You have to work at it and at the end of the day, you know it will be worth all the time and effort you put into it. If your love is true then no matter where you go, it will always find its way back to you. Never give up and keep trying.