The look in your eyes.

When I was a young child, my parents always told me that I would find my prince Charming, and that I would know who he was by the look in his eyes. As I grew up, I noticed how people looked at me. I learnt to look into peoples eyes when I spoke and how to smile at random strangers in hope of finding this boy, with the look that would snap me. As I went through high school, I noticed the stares that intensified, yet I couldn't find that one pair of eyes that were meant to be mine.
One day, as I walked down the halls, it hit me like a ton of bricks. Maybe, it was just another one of the lies my parents told me as I was a child, maybe, the eyes had nothing to do with the rest of my life. Alas, I said yes to the many boys my age who asked me out, one at a time I was treated with disrespect, Like I was there, just for show. As I gazed into their eyes, I felt nothing, saw nothing, they seemed empty to me.
I did not know what I was getting myself into. I was seeing a different guy almost nightly, and I didn't know why. The first thing I did, was look at their eyes, and they were always so.... hollow, empty, unforgiving. I started getting ill, but I did not notice it. I was so caught up in my tangled web of dates, and names, and numbers. It seemed everyone wanted a night out. Then I met him. His gaze pierced me. The next day, I woke up in the hospital. I had fainted and the young man whose gaze seemed to know all had brought me here.
I did not know his name. I did not know how to thank him. I was afraid I would never see him again. The doctor's told me I should remain at the hospital for a few days. Every time I fell asleep I would see his face, and as I awoke there would be a rose on my pillow. The nurses took tests and determined that I had a severe heart disease. They had to operate. And Fast.
My parents never showed up at the hospital, so I was told I would probably die. The mystery boy came every night after I was asleep stayed all night and left as I woke up. One night, I was feeling extremely ill, and couldn't fall asleep. I saw him walk in, take my hand, and whisper to me. This time, I was fully conscious as he told me his secrets, and of his love. He told me he was the one who tried to contact my parents, and how they told him I should die. He told me he wouldn't let that happen. That is when I truly knew.
I knew it was time to let him know I heard, I squeezed his hand tighter. He gasped and was going to run away again. I stopped him. He told me he had to go, that I couldn't know who he was. I told him I needed him. He sat back down. He told me his name, and that he knew mine. He told me exactly what was wrong with me. He told me everyone was counting down the days. He told me he was trying daily to talk my parents into coming down. I asked him for a telephone. He stood up and called for a nurse. The nurse told him he could put me in a wheelchair if it was necessary. He brought me to a pay phone, and dialed my number, he told me he knew it off by heart. I laughed and picked up the phone. My father answered the phone.
I asked him why he didn't come. He told me he couldn't handle seeing me. I told him I had a huge chance to survive, if only I had the operation. He told me he didn't want to see me dying. I told him I was alive. He told me the last image he saw of me would be a happy one. I asked to talk to mom. He told me he would get her. She picked up the phone. I asked her why she didn't come. She told me she had to work. I asked her why her job was more important than me. She told me she needed the money. I asked her what she was doing right now. She told me she was reading the newspaper. I asked her to come visit me, before I died. She told me she would try. I started crying. He took the phone from me and asked her to come by. He put on his best doctors voice and told her without her, I would die. She told him she was on her way. We went back to my room.
He held me in his arms. I asked him a couple of questions. He told me all the answers. He asked me a few questions, I told him all my answers. I cried on his shoulder. He held me closer. He asked me about my boyfriend. I told him I had been dating, but nothing serious would come of it. He asked me personal questions. I told him I was a virgin, that I had no interest in the acts of mating. He laughed. He told me I was beautiful. I told him I loved him. He looked at me for a moment and told me he loved me too. After a few hours, my mother walked into the room. She ran to me, and wrapped her arms around my thin waist. She asked me if I was eating alright. I told her I was in the hospital. She nodded.
The doctor walked in. He asked who she was. She told him she was my mother, then lied to him and told him she had been out of town. He believed her and told her about my illness. I started crying again. He held me tight. Mom told the doctor to go through with the operation. The doctor told her of the very unlikely risks. She told the doctor to do it. The doctor called the OR and told them to prepare for heart surgery. He held me tighter. He told me I would always be in his heart and that he would always love me. My mother rolled her eyes at him. She hugged me and left. She told the doctor to call her after the operation. The doctor told her that he would.
They put me on a new bed and wheeled me into the OR. He was still by my side. The doctors asked him to leave. He hugged me tight, and left the room. The doctors put me to sleep. I don't know what happened after that. I woke up with a lot of pain. Piercing pain in my chest. A nurse was in my room. I asked her why it hurt so bad. She told me that it was a natural sensation. She told me my mom had left before I got into surgery and hadn't been seen since and that the doctors were still trying to contact her. She told me the young man that had been by my side would be back in a few moments and that I was lucky I had found such a loyal boyfriend. I laughed and told her we weren't really boyfriend and girlfriend. She smiled and left.
Moments later he walked back into my room carrying roses and chocolate. He told me he was happy to see me alive and well. He told me he missed me, and that for the last three days he had been praying non stop for me to get better. I smiled. He walked to my side and tried to hug me. I told him my chest hurt. He kissed me on the cheek. I giggled. He told me he couldn't stand knowing I was in pain. I gazed into his eyes. They sparkled at me. They shone. They seemed so warm, as if they knew what I wanted to see. I stared at his chocolate brown eyes, and he stared into mine. I saw into his soul. It revealed everything I needed to know. He loved me. He barely knew me, but he wanted to know me better. In his eyes I saw something I had never seen, I felt something I had never felt. I wanted something I had never had before. I wanted someone who loved me. And suddenly, I had found him.
I told him what I saw, how I felt. He told me he knew how I felt. He told me he had told his mom he was with his dad, and his dad he was with his mom. He told me I was all that mattered to him for right now. He told me he didn't care about school, he gets good grades. He told me he didn't care about money, his parents were rich. Both of them are. He told me I had become his life. He told me he would never leave me, could never leave me. He wrapped his arms around me tight. We fell asleep.
In the morning, as I opened my eyes, I saw a note on my pillow. I read it. He had gone to get me some food. He wanted me to sleep in. I needed all the rest I could get. The nurse walked in and asked if I needed anything. I asked her if anyone had gotten a hold of my parents. They told me they had flown to England, to see my cousin, she had the flu. I knew then and there that I had lost all importance to them.
I meant nothing to the people that brought me into this world. He came back, and the nurse told him of the whereabouts of my parents. He looked stricken. He ran to my side, carrying a tea and cinnamon bun for me and a coffee for him. He placed it all on the night table and wrapped me in a bear hug. I told him I knew they didn't care. I told him I'd rather not have to see them for a while. He agreed it would probably be best. He told me he had to go call his parents later, and he asked if I wanted to meet them. I nodded my head and asked how he was going to get both his parents to the hospital. He told me he was going to tell them the truth.
We ate the breakfast he had bought and he settled me in a wheelchair. He pushed me to the pay phone and dialed the first number. He spoke to his mother first. He told her of the lie he told her. He told her the real reason of his absence. He told her about me. He told her he wanted her to meet me. I heard a laugh and he told her he was serious. He asked her if she wanted to speak to me on the phone, then handed it to me.
She told me I must be special. I told her she must be special for having him. She told me not to flatter her. She asked me how I was doing. I told her my chest was in constant pain. I told her how much his presence meant to me. He smiled. She told me she wished he had told her the truth before. She told me how sorry she was that I had been diagnosed with such disease. I asked her if she would come see me. She assured me she would be here in an hour and a half. I thanked her and handed him the phone. He said goodbye and hung up the phone.
He then dialed his father's number. He spoke less this time. He told him the truth. I heard a gruff laugh on the other end. His father thought the situation was funny. He described my disease and the laughter died down. When he gave me the phone, his father sounded sincerely sorry. His father told me that he hoped I felt better soon, and that he knew I deserved him. His father told me he wished he had met the girl of his dreams and that if he could have redone his childhood, he would have. His father told me the best thing in his life was his son, and his sons achievements. His father told me that the girl who married his son would be the luckiest girl in the world, and he told me he hoped it would be me. I asked his dad to come see us at the hospital. His father told me he was on his way. I handed him the phone. He told his dad he would be waiting at the front desk and hung up the phone.
He pushed me back to my room and helped me back onto the bed. He asked if I was alright. I told him my chest started hurting even more then before. He called for the nurse. The nurse came in and asked what the problem was. I told her about the pain. She told me it was natural to feel pain. I told her it was increasing. She told me she would fetch a doctor. The doctor came and demanded we explain why he was called. The nurse explained for me and his face slowly became more forgiving. He apologized and told me he would have a surgeon in to check it out. The surgeon walked in and took a look. He told me the nurse that had done the stitching had missed a piece of skin. He told me he would get another nurse and he left. The nurse walked in and started undoing the stitches. I grabbed his hands as she pulled and poked at the open wound. She got a new needle and some thread and re stitched it. The pain slowly decreased.
As the nurse was finishing up, his mom walked in. She gasped and asked what happened. The nurse, thinking it was my mother, told her the whole story. She went on to explain what great help he was and told her that I would be in good condition soon. His mom thanked the nurse and the nurse left. She asked where my parents were and before I could answer, he told her the story. She was choking back tears by the time he told her of the phone calls. He gave her a big hug and walked back to me. He held onto my hand. She smiled at me. A genuine smile. And told me how she would like to help me out. She insisted I stay with her until we came up with a better solution. I told her I would be in the hospital for a while yet. She nodded in agreement and told me she would visit me after work each day. I thanked her. He excused himself and His mom continued asking me questions. I answered them all truthfully and she hugged me.
A few moments later, he walked back into the room accompanied by an older looking man. He introduced me to his father and told both of his parents that he believed himself to be in love. He also apologized to them both. They looked at one another, smiled and told him they understood. They were shocked that he could care so much about someone he had only just met. They also told him he had been very brave. They told me they were glad to meet me. I told them I was happy to have had the chance. His mom told his dad about my parents and he agreed that I couldn't be sent back to them. I told them I was sure they loved me, and they told me they didn't care. His mom called an interior decorator and told her to clear out one of the offices on the third floor and paint the walls red. To have furniture and carpeting bought to match for his new female friend. She smiled and hung up her cell phone. I told her she wasn't supposed to have it in the room with her and she gasped and told us she had forgotten. I told her it wasn't a big deal.
We spoke for a while, then He brought up leaving. He told his parents he wanted to stay with me. He told them if he left, he was afraid he'd never see me again. They told him he could stay, but they were going to bring him his school work. They told him he would have to do it, or they would be forced to take him away. I told them they need not worry, for I would help him with his homework as much as I could and I would make sure he was always by my side. They laughed at me. They told me I was very special. He smiled and squeezed the hand he was still holding. His parents left. Together. He smiled at me, and told me two of his biggest dreams had just come true. I asked him which ones. He told me his parents always fight and they both agreed on this, and he told me I was his dream. He told me I was the most beautiful person he had ever seen. I told him I loved him. He told me he loved me too. I smiled at him.
The next day, when the doctors came to examine me, I couldn't move. The pain was paralyzing. He tried to help me, all I could do was scream out in pain. They took me to the operating room and opened my chest. Inside they found a huge infection. They worked as fast as they could to remove the infection but couldn't get it all. They put me on heavy doses of medication and pain relievers. I fell into a heavy coma. All I could think of was him. I started feeling his hands in mine. Never once did he try anything. He kissed my cheeks, my forehead, he helped the muscle therapist every time she came in. He spoke to me in my unconsciousness. And slowly I was becoming more and more conscious. I knew I loved him. I felt his love for me. It gave me strength to overcome the odds that I later found out where very low.
He cried on my shoulder. He prayed for me to wake up. I tried. I tried so hard. I felt his hand squeezing. I knew I needed to wake up. I knew I needed him. I knew he needed me. I pushed myself into consciousness. He was holding my hand. I squeezed it. He screamed and started crying. I told him to hold me. He did. I told him I loved him. He told me he missed me and that he never wanted to lose me like that again. I cried. He called for a nurse. The doctor came in and asked me if I felt any pain. I was surprised. I felt none. I asked how long I had been out for. They told me it had been two weeks. I gasped. I couldn't believe it. Two weeks had seemed like two days to me. He had his arms wrapped around me. I felt his warmth. The doctors said they had taken a biopsy of the infection and had gotten rid of it. They told me I would be free to leave in a few days.
I was happy. I asked him if his parents had come to visit. He told me they had. He told me how sad they were to find out I had fallen unconscious. I asked him where I would go once I was out of the hospital. He told me my room at his moms was ready. I asked quietly about my parents. He sighed and hugged me once again. He whispered that they had phoned once. They had told him that they would rather not know the details. They told him I was free to take anything I owned from the house. I cried. I didn't know why they were doing this. I asked him. He told me they thought I was pregnant. I freaked. I told him I wasn't. I cried. I swore I was virgin. He nodded. He told me he believed me. He told me there was no way you were pregnant. He told me he loved me. I smiled. He believed me more then my own parents.
His parents showed up, hand in hand. They told us they were getting back together. They told us they missed each other. They told us how much we had made them realize what they had missed. They thanked us. I smiled at them. They told me they loved me. I asked them about my parents. They told me they had everything moved out of my old room. They told me I never had to see my parents again, unless I wanted to. They told me I was theirs now. I thanked them. I really felt loved. for the first time in my life.
We left the hospital a few days later. He had my hand grasped in his. We were following his parents, or should I say our parents. I loved them. I loved him. They were going to send me to a new school. I was going to be happy. Nothing could take the joy out of my heart. My biological parents called me sometimes. I talked to them for a few minutes, then told them I was busy. Never did they try to talk me into going home. I was home. Where I felt love. Where I was happy. Home is not only where the heart is, it is also where you feel like yourself. It is the unconditional truth. I had finally found Home. I finally found the eyes that I was meant to stare into. I was finally all I could be. And I was happy about it.