Short Story: 'Love the Difference'
Sometimes you find something so beautiful that you’re scared to love it. Scared, because you know that it is perfect even without your love. You’re scared of touching it for fear of leaving your imprint upon it, spoiling its pristine beauty. Will your love sully its purity? Will your insane desire to possess it infringe upon its freedom to exist? But in spite of these doubts, and such fears, you still love it. You have no choice.
And then you find yourself loving it far too much. You are embarrassed to admit how much the mundane details mean to you. You say you liked it, that it’s nice, when you’re actually dying to express how it has touched your soul, and expressed emotions you thought could never be understood by anyone else.
As V sat there with his picture in her hands, these thoughts were running through her head. Just how had she come to love him that much? Why didn’t anything else hold her attention? Why did she never get bored of replaying his words again and again in her head? She couldn’t really answer any of these questions.
When V had first met him, the thought that she could fall so deeply in love with him hadn’t even occurred to her. They were just too different. She had always assumed that the boy she loved would have the same interests as her. He would read the same books, love the same movies and sing the same songs. She had wondered where she would find someone like that, and what if someone like that didn’t even exist? What would she do then? But after meeting him, she realized that it was possible for two people to have absolutely nothing in common, and yet be madly in love.
The differences between them were too many to even count. He was devoted to basketball, while she could never make sense of the rules. And yet she cheered for him at every match, craving the momentary glance he gave her every chance he got. And though he had never met them, he listened patiently for hours as she told him about her friends. And though she could never manage to draw anything well, she loved to hold his hand as he stroked the canvas with his brush. And though he had never heard of those boybands before, he loved to hear her sing their songs.
They seemed to inhabit totally different worlds, with nothing in common, and yet they had dared to believe they could love each other. Some had laughed at them, claiming it wasn’t possible for love to overcome such differences. Others had tried to break them apart. They hadn’t been able to understand that it didn’t matter to them that their worlds hardly met. For though they were directed at different things, their feelings were essentially the same. The burst of joy he felt when he sunk a 3-pointer was the same joy she felt on nailing the high-pitched chorus of her favorite song. Emotion, after all, is the most universal thing in the world. Every heart feels the same pain when broken, every smile expresses the same joy. If everyone could just understand that no matter if you’re rich or poor, black or white, young or old, male or female, every single person has a heart that feels just the same.
But in spite of their belief in the truth of their love, there was one difference they feared that could break them apart. Because though their hearts beat as one, the blood that flowed through their veins was different. For V was a vampire and he was a human.