I had ample amounts of stupidity and naivety, dreaming that everything could be perfect.

The tragedy of not being able to see him hit me like a brick and I sunk to my knees, as a tear slid down my porcelain face, making a black mascara line. An ink-stain of heartbreak. The days after that were a melancholy blur of autumn leaves and burnt-out cigarettes.

But even though we’d been torn apart when we had been so close, he was never far from me. I touched the antique locket around my neck and smiled, feeling the ghost of a thrill run up my spine and warm my heart.

Desperate to hear his voice, I took flight again from the crushing mundaneness of my loveless prison, my home. I was forbidden from calling him from the house, so I took the decision to call him from the red phone box.

The wait tortured me like no physical pain ever could, but after three endless, hollow rings, he picked up.
“Hello?”

His voice made me burn like nothing I’d ever experienced. Like acid rain, it seared my lips, while my teenage self remembered his soft kisses. I let out a whimper, and, like some damsel in distress, struggled to breathe.
We talked for so long that night, until words weren’t words at all, just meaningless, pointless noise. It was the electrical connection we were feeding off, just knowing the other was there.

We said so much and so little. I love you. I love you. I. Love. You.

The red telephone box became my haven. My lifeline to him. It was red like my blood, which pumped through my heart that belonged to him.

“I want to see you.” I whispered, not believing he’d feel the same.

“I need to see you.” He replied, making my heart flutter like a bird in a cage.

Lying to my mother was becoming second nature. Deceiving her was easy and to my dramatic and poetic mind, utterly necessary.

And that is how I ended up running, free, with my mind full of romantic dreams. The lure of him was just too strong. I wonder if every teenager has been blinded by love? Or was it just me?

To read Part III, see Desperate Teenage Romantics – Part III