Essay written for Freshman Writing Composition Class. The assignment was to "write a personal war story."
The Story of Charlotte and Cybil
It was late September. I was in love. I had been together with Charlotte now for eleven months. It was the longest relationship I had ever had. Charlotte was my high school sweetheart; however, we had always planned for it to not end in high school; after all, we were in love. We knew in our hearts that once college began we would still be together. College though, was still a year away, and we had not even decided where we wanted to go yet. We were seniors. We were the idealized “class couple,” and we enjoyed that, because we felt that we were perfect for each other. I had to go to Pitt for a scholar’s program. Charlotte joked with me saying, “You’d better not be hitting on any college girls!” I laughed and said, “Yeah, that’s why I'm going.” Of course, I was only kidding. I was there to take a test to try and win a scholarship that would have let me go to school there for free.
I arrived on campus. It was my first “college experience.” I was a senior in high school. Only one more year and I’d be living it. We did the usual touring and what not. I found the entire event actually rather boring. I talked to no one; I had nothing to say. I was there to take a test to try and win a scholarship that would let me go to school there for free.
Finally, I talked to a kid named Tom from West Virginia. He seemed to be the quiet type, like me. He didn’t have a girlfriend, and was pointing out the many high school girls to me who were there for the scholarship test. Of course, I wasn’t very interested, after all, I was in love. Finally, I met another person, a girl named Sybil who was from Virginia. I was sitting there with Tom, and she came up to us and just began aimlessly talking. I really hadn’t much cared for it.
She eventually mentioned that Tom and I seemed pretty quiet. She went on about her philosophy that people shouldn’t be quiet, “What if one of you has half of the cure to cancer, and the other has the other half, and you are both too quiet to mention it, and millions of people die.” Yeah, whatever, I thought. The three of us pretty much spent the afternoon together. Tom was blatantly flirting with Sybil the entire time. I knew my way around the area, being that I lived in Pittsburgh, and I showed them where to eat and what to do. Still, I hadn’t said much.
In time, it was dark. The evening came, and somehow Tom left us, but I don’t quite remember how. Inevitably I was alone with Sybil. We decided to go and see a movie that was showing in a nearby theater. I saw a lot of people from the scholars’ program there. Sybil and I joked at how there were these two people that had no doubt just met each other that day and were already lovey-dovey in the theater.
Anyway, we sat by each other and watched the film which was a rather boring foreign film about elephants. All of a sudden, I felt Sybil’s hand on mine. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t move. Perhaps it was just a mistake or something, just a coincidence that her hand came to rest on mine, after all there was only one arm-rest and two people. Then she seemed to get closer and closer. I have to admit that I was sort of feeling awkward, yet I rather enjoyed it. However, there was a guilt that I felt for enjoying it. I leaned over and said, “Do you want to get out of here?” “Alright,” she said.
We went across the street to the convenience store. We bought some Cokes. I knew she had some sort of feelings for me. I mean, she was putting the moves on me, right? We walked around and I told her that I had a girlfriend. I showed her Charlotte’s picture. She got the hint, but she still gazed at me. We walked on, and talked about everything-- relationships, religion, sex, it was some deep conversation, the kind that you can only have with a mysterious person of the opposite sex that you just met.
Eventually we sat in the grass. We stared into each other’s eyes. I couldn’t understand what I was feeling. She was so beautiful, but I hated myself for thinking that. It wasn’t right. I had a girl. I was in love. We talked about kissing. We both knew that I had a girl. We both knew it would have been wrong. It was so strange. I had this feeling in my head that I may never get another chance to kiss a girl besides Charlotte. It was a feeling as if I was missing something. The intent to kiss Sybil was there. I knew, however that it was okay to think about kissing, but not okay to actually kiss another girl. Sybil and I openly discussed the kissing dilemma. I knew that if I had done it I could have never kept it hidden from Charlotte.
Seeing my stress, Sybil kissed me on the forehead. The peck was an attempt to relieve the tension, but we both knew it was of no help. Our lips became inches apart--so close. Sybil’s eyes were so beautiful, yet so forbidden.
I know its not the right thing, and I know its not the good thing. But kinda I want to.
Kinda I want to, maybe just for tonight, we can pretend its alright.
What’s the price I pay? I don’t care what they say. -Trent Reznor
My mind was racing. The summer before, Charlotte spent two months in Europe. I was never tempted. I never even looked at another girl. Now, here I was, one day away on my own and on the brink. Why did I have to be tested already? It was terrible. Sybil said nothing either way to try and make me kiss her or not. She was ready for whatever decision I was about to make. I never understood it. The entire day, I said not a single solitary word to lead her on. I in no way acted interested in her. Women are crazy. Now it was decision time. Now I had to act. There I was; would I ever kiss another girl? Was Charlotte the only girl for me? It was such a romantic, yet despairing notion.
I made the decision. Our lips touched and our tongues met. It was one of the most blissful, yet forbidden kisses I had ever had. Just for that minute of uninterrupted rapture I was at ease. I didn’t have to worry about “missing out” on life and romance and girls. But wait, it was not that simple. All along I knew it, but I loved Charlotte. I knew this meeting with Sybil meant nothing. I hated myself for giving in, yet if I had the choice I would have done it again; I fucked up, but I meant to. We got up and it started to rain--no shit, rain. I knew I was in trouble when it started to rain.
The next day I took that test, and I felt I aced it. One question was on a mathematical theory and the other was all about some philosophical ethics problem. Ethics, morality, it was all a haze to me that day. I left the classroom with Sybil, and we walked around campus together for a little while. As we walked, she would keep getting close to me. She would touch me and grab my hand or rub my shoulder. Now things were different; I knew for a fact that I did not want this. It became as if I could justify kissing Sybil because it meant nothing to me, and she meant nothing to me. When it came to affection, I did not want to share any with her because then I would really be doing wrong. I still loved Charlotte, and I did not want to be with Sybil. She knew this. Much like the night before, the decision of what would happen between us was left to me, and Sybil didn’t mind at all. Finally, my dad came to pick me up--a lost child whose father had come to take him back to his nurturing home. I watched Sybil walk off alone down the street, never to be seen or heard from again.
When I got home, Nine Inch Nails was my savior. I just listened to hate music all afternoon. I hated myself, but I regretted nothing. That night I told Charlotte what had happened; I couldn’t hide it. I knew it would have been better to say nothing, because I knew it would have never happened again and she would have forgiven me anyway. She slapped me, but after a few weeks, I won her heart back, but things were never the same again. We stayed together for almost another year. We were still very much in love, but there was always a deep remembrance of what had happened in the back of both of our minds, I think. She knew that it would have never happened again, but she couldn’t erase the past.
The next summer she got drunk and kissed another guy. There was nothing I could say, she had me by the balls. To be honest, I didn’t really care, though. I knew what she must have felt, and I very quickly forgave her. By this time in our relationship however, things had gotten pretty shitty, and nothing really mattered. We finally broke up...just another high school relationship that didn’t make it past that. I am glad it all happened the way it did, though. I can’t say it really taught me anything worthwhile, but then again, such is life. It’s not always black and white, and to this day I still think that if I had it all over again I would have done it the same way, and I still hate myself for feeling that way.
I arrived on campus. It was my first “college experience.” I was a senior in high school. Only one more year and I’d be living it. We did the usual touring and what not. I found the entire event actually rather boring. I talked to no one; I had nothing to say. I was there to take a test to try and win a scholarship that would let me go to school there for free.
Finally, I talked to a kid named Tom from West Virginia. He seemed to be the quiet type, like me. He didn’t have a girlfriend, and was pointing out the many high school girls to me who were there for the scholarship test. Of course, I wasn’t very interested, after all, I was in love. Finally, I met another person, a girl named Sybil who was from Virginia. I was sitting there with Tom, and she came up to us and just began aimlessly talking. I really hadn’t much cared for it.
She eventually mentioned that Tom and I seemed pretty quiet. She went on about her philosophy that people shouldn’t be quiet, “What if one of you has half of the cure to cancer, and the other has the other half, and you are both too quiet to mention it, and millions of people die.” Yeah, whatever, I thought. The three of us pretty much spent the afternoon together. Tom was blatantly flirting with Sybil the entire time. I knew my way around the area, being that I lived in Pittsburgh, and I showed them where to eat and what to do. Still, I hadn’t said much.
In time, it was dark. The evening came, and somehow Tom left us, but I don’t quite remember how. Inevitably I was alone with Sybil. We decided to go and see a movie that was showing in a nearby theater. I saw a lot of people from the scholars’ program there. Sybil and I joked at how there were these two people that had no doubt just met each other that day and were already lovey-dovey in the theater.
Anyway, we sat by each other and watched the film which was a rather boring foreign film about elephants. All of a sudden, I felt Sybil’s hand on mine. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t move. Perhaps it was just a mistake or something, just a coincidence that her hand came to rest on mine, after all there was only one arm-rest and two people. Then she seemed to get closer and closer. I have to admit that I was sort of feeling awkward, yet I rather enjoyed it. However, there was a guilt that I felt for enjoying it. I leaned over and said, “Do you want to get out of here?” “Alright,” she said.
We went across the street to the convenience store. We bought some Cokes. I knew she had some sort of feelings for me. I mean, she was putting the moves on me, right? We walked around and I told her that I had a girlfriend. I showed her Charlotte’s picture. She got the hint, but she still gazed at me. We walked on, and talked about everything-- relationships, religion, sex, it was some deep conversation, the kind that you can only have with a mysterious person of the opposite sex that you just met.
Eventually we sat in the grass. We stared into each other’s eyes. I couldn’t understand what I was feeling. She was so beautiful, but I hated myself for thinking that. It wasn’t right. I had a girl. I was in love. We talked about kissing. We both knew that I had a girl. We both knew it would have been wrong. It was so strange. I had this feeling in my head that I may never get another chance to kiss a girl besides Charlotte. It was a feeling as if I was missing something. The intent to kiss Sybil was there. I knew, however that it was okay to think about kissing, but not okay to actually kiss another girl. Sybil and I openly discussed the kissing dilemma. I knew that if I had done it I could have never kept it hidden from Charlotte.
Seeing my stress, Sybil kissed me on the forehead. The peck was an attempt to relieve the tension, but we both knew it was of no help. Our lips became inches apart--so close. Sybil’s eyes were so beautiful, yet so forbidden.
I know its not the right thing, and I know its not the good thing. But kinda I want to.
Kinda I want to, maybe just for tonight, we can pretend its alright.
What’s the price I pay? I don’t care what they say. -Trent Reznor
My mind was racing. The summer before, Charlotte spent two months in Europe. I was never tempted. I never even looked at another girl. Now, here I was, one day away on my own and on the brink. Why did I have to be tested already? It was terrible. Sybil said nothing either way to try and make me kiss her or not. She was ready for whatever decision I was about to make. I never understood it. The entire day, I said not a single solitary word to lead her on. I in no way acted interested in her. Women are crazy. Now it was decision time. Now I had to act. There I was; would I ever kiss another girl? Was Charlotte the only girl for me? It was such a romantic, yet despairing notion.
I made the decision. Our lips touched and our tongues met. It was one of the most blissful, yet forbidden kisses I had ever had. Just for that minute of uninterrupted rapture I was at ease. I didn’t have to worry about “missing out” on life and romance and girls. But wait, it was not that simple. All along I knew it, but I loved Charlotte. I knew this meeting with Sybil meant nothing. I hated myself for giving in, yet if I had the choice I would have done it again; I fucked up, but I meant to. We got up and it started to rain--no shit, rain. I knew I was in trouble when it started to rain.
The next day I took that test, and I felt I aced it. One question was on a mathematical theory and the other was all about some philosophical ethics problem. Ethics, morality, it was all a haze to me that day. I left the classroom with Sybil, and we walked around campus together for a little while. As we walked, she would keep getting close to me. She would touch me and grab my hand or rub my shoulder. Now things were different; I knew for a fact that I did not want this. It became as if I could justify kissing Sybil because it meant nothing to me, and she meant nothing to me. When it came to affection, I did not want to share any with her because then I would really be doing wrong. I still loved Charlotte, and I did not want to be with Sybil. She knew this. Much like the night before, the decision of what would happen between us was left to me, and Sybil didn’t mind at all. Finally, my dad came to pick me up--a lost child whose father had come to take him back to his nurturing home. I watched Sybil walk off alone down the street, never to be seen or heard from again.
When I got home, Nine Inch Nails was my savior. I just listened to hate music all afternoon. I hated myself, but I regretted nothing. That night I told Charlotte what had happened; I couldn’t hide it. I knew it would have been better to say nothing, because I knew it would have never happened again and she would have forgiven me anyway. She slapped me, but after a few weeks, I won her heart back, but things were never the same again. We stayed together for almost another year. We were still very much in love, but there was always a deep remembrance of what had happened in the back of both of our minds, I think. She knew that it would have never happened again, but she couldn’t erase the past.
The next summer she got drunk and kissed another guy. There was nothing I could say, she had me by the balls. To be honest, I didn’t really care, though. I knew what she must have felt, and I very quickly forgave her. By this time in our relationship however, things had gotten pretty shitty, and nothing really mattered. We finally broke up...just another high school relationship that didn’t make it past that. I am glad it all happened the way it did, though. I can’t say it really taught me anything worthwhile, but then again, such is life. It’s not always black and white, and to this day I still think that if I had it all over again I would have done it the same way, and I still hate myself for feeling that way.
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