Mona and I


A good thing can change so quickly, but the clouds will break in due time.

Noah Smith, Staff Writer

Her eyes tempted me from across the room. I stood, still as stone, and returned her gaze. Her eyes were something tough to describe. They were metallic blue toward the pupil, but grew emerald by the edge. This was perhaps an indicator of the months to come: strange, yet beautiful.



                The party was nothing special. A group of popular high school kids got drunk and broke a lot of expensive Ethan Allen furniture–the usual. The only thing that made this get together memorable was her. Mona Zoe stood on the far wall holding a red cup filled with absolutely nothing; she just liked the look of it. I could tell as our eyes first met that she was going to ruin me. There is no real way to describe the feeling. It was not love at first sight; rather, it was as if I had known those eyes for centuries.

I began my trek across the never ending living room. I pushed countless inebriated teenagers out of the way until I noticed, halfway across, that she was standing directly in front of me. I gasped out a wimpy “Hello,” and that was the moment when our story began.

We ended up talking until nearly three in the morning, at which point I drove her home. I took the longest route possible and felt saddened as soon as her front door quietly shut behind her.



Everything flew by in September. Mona and I began dating on the 15th after a few weeks of total infatuation. I could not stop thinking about her. Her fiery hair and freckles, which looked like a constellation across her face. She was my sun. Everything I did revolved around her; I can still feel the pull she had on me even now. As the days moved on, her birthday drew closer: October 3rd. During the final week of September, I decided to get her a record player; she always loved that kind of stuff. She always loved cool and vintage things that I truly could have cared less for. I did love how her face lit up when she showed me her collection, however.



                She said her birthday was amazing. It seemed like a typical sweet sixteen to me. I was the last to give her a present, and she opened the expertly wrapped Amazon box. She looked up to me and I saw love in her eyes. In that moment, I knew that she was the one for me; it became apparent that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with only her. I wanted to raise a family and live a nice suburban life together. Once she opened it, she hugged me harder than ever before. I returned the hug with just a much strength. Everything felt perfect, it was all falling into place.



As the cold began to surround us, we began to fall apart. She became occupied with everything except for me, and I had no idea what I had done. The breaking point was Thanksgiving. I went over to her house fully aware of what might occur. I ate with her and her family, and throughout the meal she completely ignored me. After dinner, she stomped upstairs to her room; I followed after a few minutes. She was seated on her bed facing the window. As soon as I entered the room, she burst into tears. She explained how she felt that the relationship did not mean anything anymore, and she did not want to feel tied down. I told her I understood and decided it was a good time to leave. She called me later that night and we decided that it would be best to go our separate ways. I tried to object, but I was speechless. She said her last goodbye and hung up.



The school hallways never quite felt the same after we broke up. I would walk past the hallways we always talked in–or the hallway we first met in—and it just felt different. At first, I did not accept anything: denial. As time progressed, the grieving process ended and I continued on with my life. With college just around the corner, my focus began to shift to finding a school to go to. It is hard to say if I was able to move on from her, but one thing is for sure: Mona never quite left my mind. After all, she was my first love. Even though she left an unfixable scar on me, there is nothing to do but live with it, and hope that one day someone else will help me forget about it completely.