Diamond
With the sun disappearing over the horizon, the smell of salt and misty spray of the waves became easy on the senses, but harder on the mind. This morning, I woke up next to an angel with golden streaks in her hair and legs that stretched out to the equator. Next thing I know, the sun is almost gone, just like its brightest season.
Her bare feet sunk in the wet sand as we approached the shore, our fingers laced with the other’s. She looked at me with eyes that matched the water, and I remembered the first time she told me her deepest secret, just 12 days before. A month after we met at the same shoreline. Between the rocks and a rosy sky, we were drawn together through the summer heat. I had never seen something more beautiful before, nor after.
The legends say they’re cold-hearted, bloodthirsty, hungry creatures of the deep. They lure you with the faint touch of their hand or the brush of their hair, and you’re never to be seen again. I’d say, what else can you expect from those stuck in a vast body of water, alone and afraid? When the leaves fall, when grass is stiff with ice, they’re searching for nothing in the sea. But even so, as it would make sense, it isn’t true. I knew when I met her, none of it was true. From her three months on land, I received three months in heaven.
She squeezed my hand before dropping it flat, her eyes set on the water. I pictured this moment from only my perspective. Hiding my sadness, keeping inside my regret and ache, as she happily accepts her home again. I realized my planned out goodbyes would be useless as I witnessed a tear escape her eye, her lashes sparkling in whatever light was left at the far bottom of the sky. She turned her attention away from the waves, and onto me, where I lost my composure entirely.
“I can’t leave.” She spoke, softly. She had an accent like no other, knowing more languages than I can count on one hand. Just one of the things she opened me up to, that I had no idea existed. I placed my hand on her shoulder, the other on the curve of her waist.
“You have to.” I answered, with my forehead resting against hers. She closed her eyes and let more tears fall. They shimmered like diamonds as the light took hold of them. I tried to remember everything we had, everything that happened this summer, with what I thought was just a fling.
How could I not think it was only a fling, at times? During the times I would bring her to a party but we’d hide out in a closet behind a wall of jackets and mops. One of the very first times I took her out to a summer party, she did the same. We had only been seeing each other for a couple weeks, when she shoved me against the wall of the closet, the closeness of the lightbulb ahead completely blinding me until it began to flicker.
With my slurred drunken words, I asked her, “Are you doing that?” while laughing up a storm. She, however, always kept complete composure no matter how much she consumed. She would flash a smile, and mutter in her admirable accent, “Possibly.” As she planted a few more kisses on my lips, before the light blew out entirely.
“Where are you from?” I asked, stumbling. She laughed at me.
“Why?”
“Your…your accent. Are you Scottish? Russian? Indian? It sounds so weird…” She just chuckled again, before placing her arms on my chest and her lips at my ear.
“I’m nothing you’ve ever dreamed of.” She whispered.
I remember her smiles, her laughs, her shattering screams when I’d pick her up in the air, her soft breathing when she slept beside me. Starting today, I’ll remember her tears.
She opened her wet eyes and glanced back at the ocean. Then to me. Then to the ocean. Then back to me.
“Through everything I’ve seen,” She began. “The coastline of the Atlantic, ships bigger than the clouds, and romantic beaches such as this, you are still the best thing I’ve ever laid my eyes on, Dakota.”
“And you are the most beautiful thing I’ve seen as well, love.” She smiled to herself as she turned to face the horizon. The sun was almost gone entirely. The sky was no longer pink. There were only a few strays of light that reached out to us.
“It’s time.” She muttered without looking at me. I walked over to her and picked her up into my arms for the last time. I spun her around and memorized her bellowing laugh, until finally stopping to face the waters again, our smiles disappearing. The sun was gone. A couple rays of light shone over the horizon, but the sun was no longer there. I looked down at her legs as they slowly faded into glimmering scales. The golden streaks in her hair died out. Her lips were suddenly dry and chapped, her skin grew pale.
“You never gave me a name.” She whimpered. I could tell she was in pain. She needed the water. I needed her to stay. My mind raced. I tried to find something that would make her happy. I promised her a name. When we first met, bent down on the wet sand, me running from my friends to catch a volleyball, her running from something she refused to tell me until weeks later, I had promised to grant her a name.
“Diamond.” I let slip out. I thought about her eyes on that first day, and her tears in tonight’s sunset. “How about Diamond?”
“I love it.” She said, smiling.
I gave her a long kiss goodbye as I reminded her she had to go. She agreed with me this time. She planted one last, soft kiss on my lips before saying goodbye to me, then splashing off into the waves. My arms felt heavy once they were left empty. My head felt drained. I stared at the water trying to find her, until she popped up about 20 feet back into the water. Her hair glistened, and her skin was tanned. In that short time, she became healthy again. I smiled as I returned her wave to me. Even as she turned back and swam away, I was happy that she was okay. We had a short summer romance, but anything we didn’t experience in these months, only gives us more to live through next year.
-xLLSx-
(Source: tazabella, via dailydoseofbeautiful)
Drizzle, Part 1
“Are you almost ready?” I heard him ask from the bottom of the stairs. I spread the ruby red lipstick across my pale lips while squinting in the mirror. I pressed my lips together to fully accent the color.
“Just about.” I replied, probably not loud enough as I fluffed up my curls. As I made the most unattractive faces in the mirror, I heard Drake tread up the stairs and slam open the door.
“Angie! It’s almost seven! We’ll be late!” He shouted. I batted my eyes one last time at the mirror, and shoved my lipstick back into my bag.
“Wow. You look like you’re trying to impress somebody.” He said, eyeing me up and down.
“Well, it is technically a double date. Although, I want to make it clear that I don’t approve of your constant attempts to set up your friend with all of your remaining single female relatives. She’s a person too, you know!” I said as I hurried down the stairs next to him. Ever since Drake’s good friend Joy told him she was a lesbian, he’s desperately been trying to find her a girlfriend. Since he has plenty of gay relatives, he’s been bombarding her with set-ups and blind dates. This is the first time we’ve done it double-date style, which would mean this is the first time I would be meeting her. This time, he’s setting her up with his first cousin, Melanie.
“Angie, on the same night the girl came out to me as gay, she practically also came out to me as sexually deprived. She hasn’t had a lover for a year!” He shamelessly replied. I decided on just rolling my eyes instead of engaging in a foolish and pointless argument.
We arrived at the restaurant barely on time, which of course was my fault. Joy was waiting in a booth with a slim blonde girl with her hair pulled back in a pony tail. Much to Drake’s disappointment, they didn’t seem to get along very well. Melanie was a vegetarian and only ordered a very small salad, while Joy ordered a sirloin steak. They didn’t talk to each other very much, either. Melanie also spent a lot of time on her cell phone. She was a doctor, and she was currently on call. She only spent half an hour with us before she had to leave us, and leave Joy all alone with a couple across from her.
“So…” Joy said after a period of uncomfortable silence as we waited for our desserts. It was hard to make small talk with only the three of us. We knew Joy probably didn’t feel good being the only single one there.
“Did you guys set a date yet?” She asked. Drake’s eyes lit up when he heard her ask. He loves talking about the wedding.
“Yes we did!” He said, brightly. “April 22nd.” Joy nodded in approval, and we fell into another silence. I caught myself staring at her lips. They were full and looked to be the same shade of red mine were. My focus was broken by a server placing three plates topped with chocolate cakes overflowing with fudge and an ice cream platter. Joy and I got the same thing. My fiance was the one with the ice cream platter. Our small talk only lasted for a little while before Joy revealed something to us.
“So, Drake, there’s something I need to ask you.” She began. She pressed her lips together, and brushed some of her chin-length, dark hair back behind her ear. I assumed these to be nervous habits.
“I was kicked out of my apartment.” She said, looking down. I could tell she was ashamed, and possibly blaming herself. Drake looked at her with remorse in his eyes. We found out that Joy’s landlord had been giving her a hard time for quite a while now, and he’s been finding any excuse whatsoever to get something against her so he could kick her out. When she got a cat, he finally found the excuse, and explained that he “just recently changed the policy on animals.” Even when she returned the small, defenseless furball, he wouldn’t let her stay.
“You could stay with us. Although, it won’t really be us, because I’m leaving tonight for Europe. It’s a business trip.” My fiance reassured her.
“So it would just be Angie and me?” She asked. Her voice sounded nervous, but her eyes remained comfortable.
“Yeah. Don’t wreck anything while I’m gone.” We all laughed, and then Drake excused himself for a quick visit to the bathroom. I couldn’t help myself then. I took in everything about Joy. Her raging red lips, her long, curved lashes, her sleek and straight black hair, her stunning blue eyes. She had a beautiful collarbone, even, and dainty, smooth hands. I noticed how her dress accented her soft curves and mile-long legs as well. It was a tight-fitted black dress with a scooped neck. She had a silver chain wrapped around her perfect neck with a sparkling pendant reading “Joy” in cursive. I didn’t realize how long I spent just staring at her, before she laughed nervously.
“What?” She asked, flashing me a blinding white smile, like a commercial for toothpaste.
“Nothing.” I said, also chuckling now. “You’re just beautiful.” I hadn’t realized what I said at first, but we both started to laugh nervously after it sloppily spilled out of my mouth. I looked down at my knuckles and moved my hands to the middle of the table. Joy was playing with her fingernails. Another nervous habit, I suppose, but she moved one of her hands closer to mine. I looked up at her, meeting her icy blues. Her lips had the smallest gap between them as I noticed her hands starting to shake ever so slightly. That’s when Drake came back to greet us without sitting back down, and we quickly retreated to the far back of our seats. He explained his flight was soon, and we all gathered ourselves outside to leave. We ran quickly, as it was pouring rain out.
It was still raining when Joy and I got back to the house after dropping Drake off at the airport. I ran to the door and stumbled with the keys, and it was only after I opened the door that I noticed Joy was standing in the middle of the walkway looking up at the rain. She was giving the sky a very wide smile, and her hair and dress were sticking to her skin.
“What are you doing?” I asked, laughing at her. She answered me, but I couldn’t quite make it out. The rain was too loud.
“What?” I yelled again. She ran over to me and laid her soaking hand on my arm.
“I said, I love the rain.” She said, softly, and still smiling. “Come dance with me in it!” She quickly ran back into the rain and spun around. I laughed at her again for a moment before joining in. She grabbed my hands and we spun around in circles like children. I twirled her once or twice, and while attempting a third time, I slipped on the mud and fell right on my back. Joy toppled down next to me, her hand slapping me in the chest. It made a splashing sound from how wet we were, from head to toe. We couldn’t stop laughing when we had fallen.
“Angie?” She asked, once able to speak again. I turned to face her. She was already looking right at me. Her eyes were soft, and she was no longer smiling.
“How often do you do this?” She said so softly it sounded like a whisper. The rain softened with her voice and became just a drizzle.
“What, slip in the mud and fall on my ass?” We chuckled, but her smile disappeared in a short time and she became serious again.
“No.” She said. “Not that.” She was whispering now. My smile disappeared too as I waited for her to continue, but she didn’t. She changed the subject to the drizzle and said we should go inside.
It was times like these I was glad our house was entirely made of hardwood flooring, because our muddy shoes and wet backs would have been too much for rugs. I plopped my purse onto the kitchen counter and tried to show Joy to the upstairs so we could both change, but she refused. She said that the best part of dancing in the rain was the mess. I obliged, and stayed downstairs to wash dishes, while she leaned against the counter across from me to take in her surroundings.
“You have such a beautiful home.” She said, tracing her fingers against the granite.
“Thank you. We just moved in recently, so I’m still in the process of falling in love with it.” I replied without looking up at her. I heard her shuffling around, and I tried to hurry with the dishes so as not to bore her much longer.
“Falling in love with it, that’s a long process.” I heard her from a different angle this time, but I couldn’t tell where she was. I just knew she was farther away.
“Do you know what’s cool about the kitchen? Turn the second lightswitch off. It’ll give it this really dim, but pretty glow.” She did as I told her. It only took about a second, so I assumed that she had been moving all the way back against the wall the entire time talking to me. Perhaps she wanted to explore the house more, or maybe she felt awkward being so close to me. I heard some shuffling again, as I tried to finish up the last two dishes.
“Doesn’t it look nice?” I asked. She didn’t answer me right away, and I heard a couple footsteps against the hardwood.
“It looks perfect.” She replied, from right behind me. I stopped washing the dishes as she slowly traced a hand around my waist. I ripped off my rubber gloves and spun around to face her. She was so close, even closer than I thought, and I thought she’d be close. I tried to say “What are you doing?” But I couldn’t speak. I could barely even move. She placed a hand on my face, and then slowly leaned in to kiss me. She held it there for only a moment. I had only a small taste, before she let go and dropped her hand to her side. I just stood there. I forgot how to move, yet I felt so relaxed. She pressed her lips together and looked down.
“I’m sorry.” She said quietly. I just looked at her for a minute in silence. I lost my voice. All I did was stand there and breathe heavily while listening to the loud pounding of my heart. She started to walk away, when I grabbed her hand in protest. I pulled her to me, and kissed her, but not nearly as softly as she kissed me. I held her there. I didn’t let her go for a while, and I never wanted to at all, but she pulled away. She looked at me, studied the look in my eyes to get the okay to keep going, and she kissed me again. Each kiss had more force, and came with more hand movements. She pressed me against the sink as she unbuttoned my blouse and let it carelessly hit the floor. It wasn’t long before I followed her example and lifted her small black dress over her head. Her body looked better than I had imagined it in the restaurant. She had beautiful curves and silky soft skin. I lifted her up by her legs and spun us around so I could gently but forcefully place her on the counter.
We never stopped kissing for a moment. We never thought of anything but each other. We were locked on each other like star-crossed lovers in their last moments together. I couldn’t bring myself to let my hands off her still wet skin, and I could feel that it was hard for her to pry hers out of my soaked curls. We only ever separated to link hands and swiftly make our way up the stairs.
To be continued.
-xLLSx-
(via dailydoseofbeautiful)
Strawberries
I was nine, and you were ten. My mom became friends with your mom, and invited you to my birthday party. There was a clown I was scared of, and presents I wasn’t really looking forward to opening. I didn’t know who you were, but I swear you knew who I was. You’ve always recognized my soul.
You bought me a present. A little tupperware box wrapped in blue tissue paper with a big silver bow on the top. After eating a little bit of cake and going through the pretending-to-be-happy-with-my-gifts cycle, you gave me that poorly wrapped box. I opened it up, and didn’t know what to think about what was inside.
“It’s a strawberry!” You exclaimed.
“…I know.” I said. I put on my fake smile, and said my fake thank yous, and then tossed it with the other reject presents. But that wasn’t the last of you. You stayed with me when I wanted to be alone. You played with me when all of the other kids ignored me. You helped me pick out clothes for my Barbie. We went outside, and you taught me how to properly hold a bat so we could play softball. You didn’t leave my side once. When it was time for everyone to leave, you begged my mother to let you sleep over, and she allowed you to.
In the morning, my mom made french toast with bananas. As you came to join us at the table, you snatched my fork out of my grasp and yelled “wait!”
“What??” I snapped back.
“You forgot your present!”
“What present?” I asked. You walked over to my pile of reject presents, and pulled out the strawberry. You placed it onto your plate, cut it in half with a butter knife, and gave me one of the halves.
“Everything tastes better with strawberries.” You said, flashing me a smile.
I was fifteen at the time, and you were sixteen.
You frowned at me, and you gave me a look of disappointment.
“You don’t actually celebrate it, do you? It’s such a greeting card holiday.” I said. Valentine’s Day wasn’t exactly my favorite holiday. I’d only had a boyfriend for it one year, and he didn’t even buy me anything. Being single on the day isn’t much better.
“Not really, but I did want to share something with you.” You replied.
“You bought me something?”
“No. Some girl bought me something. A box of chocolates, to be exact. I hate Valentine’s Day too, but chocolate’s still good, right?” I smiled at you.
“Only if there’s strawberry cream involved.” You flashed a smile back at me.
I was twenty-one at the time, and you were twenty-two.
I was sweating, and it was getting a little hard to breathe. My long, white dress dragged behind me as I sat down to take a deep breath and cool down. My plate still had scrapings of icing, but as sloppy as I am, the napkins were still neatly tied with a gold ribbon that read “Save the Date - March 16th.” My mother sat down next to me.
“Well, at least you’ve worked off that cake!” She said. I laughed. Nothing could work off this cake.
“Speaking of cake,” She began again. “I thought you decided on vanilla.”
“Individually, I did decide on vanilla. But, he wanted chocolate. So together, we decided on strawberry shortcake.” She looked at me weird, but I couldn’t explain it any better than I did.
I am twenty-three, and you are twenty-four.
It’s nine in the morning, and I feel your hands trail around my waist. I giggle as you nibble on my neck while I finish making our plates. I nudge you to sit down, and I transfer the plates to the table. You don’t move, and you refuse to eat. I was hoping you’d notice.
“I knew you’d pick up on it.” I smirked, and you returned it. I got up and grabbed a small tupperware box, where I sprinkled pre-chopped strawberries over our banana french toast.
“Everything tastes better with strawberries.” You said, as we shared a smile together.
-xLLSx-
(Source: topit.me, via boystudent)
While In Mourning
“Cindy, you look beautiful tonight.” He said softly, looking straight into my eyes. I looked down and blushed, trying not to make a fool of myself by smiling too much. I played with his fingers a little more, both my hands laced into his. I looked up again, meeting his sparkling auburn eyes. A gorgeous shade of reddish-brown, with a hint of orangey yellow around the outer edge. Those eyes could put stars to shame, and they constantly stole the air from my lungs.
“Thank you, Tom.” I replied, smiling. He smiled back, and squeezed my hands tighter.
“Happy anniversary, darling.”
“And to you, my dear.” We shared a few moments of just getting lost in each other’s eyes then. That’s when you know you’re truly in love. When you can share minutes of complete silence without having to awkwardly look away or play with your fingertips, and fully enjoy the moment.
“Have I ever told you…” He began. “…how my father proposed to my mother?”
I shook my head no, and he chuckled.
“Well, that’s because he never did.” I laughed too, not quite understanding what he was getting at.
“However, he always regretted it. He would tell me that he wished every single day that he could have pulled out a sparkling silver ring, preferably with a shiny big silver heart straight in the middle, and asked for her hand in marriage on their anniversary day.” He looked at me again, his smile disappearing. He wasn’t upset, just serious. Suddenly, he knelt down on one knee in front of me, and I gasped along with everyone surrounding us in the restaurant. He pulled out this little black box, and opened it to reveal the most beautiful piece of jewelry I had ever laid my eyes on. It was a silver band, with a gorgeous diamond heart straight in the middle of it, just like he had described before.
“He never had the courage to give it to her.” He said. I put my hands over my mouth and disbelief and waited for him to continue, the whole restaurant watching us.
“Cindy, I knew from the first day I met you that you are the most beautiful, intelligent, sweet, and fun girl I would ever meet in my entire life. I watched my father live in regret for years because he had never officially married my mother. I refuse to do the same with you. I’ll do this right, because you deserve the best that there is. Cindy Rose Mackenzie, will you be mine forever as my caring wife, with me as your loving husband?” I smiled, and felt my eyes starting to water. I looked down for a split second, taking all of this in, and quickly looked back up again.
“Yes.” I replied. “Yes, I will marry you because I love you.” He flashed me a very wide smile, and pulled the ring out of its placement in the box. He slowly slid it on my finger, and I got up to kiss him. Everyone in the restaurant clapped once they realized what the answer was, and we shared a moment of perfection right then and there.
We paid the check at the front desk, and left the restaurant for the first time as a happy couple of fiancee’s. It was raining outside, and it could have ruined my beautiful dress that I was saving for this night, but I did not care. We started walking to the car, and then I stopped in the middle of the parking lot. He walked back to face me.
“What’s the matter?” He asked. I grinned.
“I just realized that I’m going to be spending the rest of my life with the man of my dreams.” He returned my grin, and picked me up to spin me around. I laughed more than I ever had while I was spinning. I had never been so happy.
He set me down, and planted a kiss on my lips.
“I love you.” He said, smiling brightly. Right when I was going to reply, his smile instantly disappeared. The color from his face escaped, and his eyes seemed horrified.
“Tom, what’s wrong?” I asked, worried. His hand left my waist and retreated to his chest, which was stained a color much darker than the original of his shirt. I panicked, and he fell backwards onto the blacktop. I saw a man pointing a gun from afar, and I assumed he was the one responsible for my fiancee’s pain. I quickly knelt down to him and grabbed his hand.
“Tom? Tom?! Tom, are you alright?” I asked, frantically. Tears were quickly rolling down my face, and I grabbed his hand tighter and tighter. His eyes started watering, and his mouth was open as he tried to speak.
“C-cindy?” He muttered.
“Yes. Yes, what is it?” I said, completely sobbing.
“I’m c-cold…” He said, and closed his eyes.
“Tom!” I shook his body, but he had no response. I knew that he was gone, but I kept shaking and screaming his name for a minute longer, just in case. Finally, I stopped, and just let my head hang down. I grabbed his hand, which was placed on his chest, and sobbed to the silence of his heart.
—
This was the third morning in a row where I had woken up from that memory in my dreams. It’s been a year since Tom died. As of today, it’s been exactly a year. I woke up with tears streaming down my face, as I did the past two days. I am revisited with thoughts of ‘If only we had gone to a different restaurant. If only we hadn’t gotten in the way of that gun fight between those guys. If only…” I had been haunted by those thoughts by this past entire year.
I caressed the sparkling heart of my ring on my left ring finger, crying. I wiped away the tears, like I always had, and continued on with my daily routine. I forced myself to get out of bed despite my desire, and took a quick shower.
I had the same routine every day since my darling love passed. I would get up every day crying and looking at my ring, I’d go to the coffee shop and read the morning paper, and I’d spend the day reading or working online (I’m a novelist, and I’ve been working on a nonfiction novel about what happened with Tom and I), or sometimes I would go to the gym and exercise.
Today, something broke my routine. My routine that kept me sane, my routine that would keep me from spending every moment mourning the death of Tom, was broken by something today.
I went to the coffee shop with a paper in hand, about to get my daily cup of coffee. I walked up to the counter, already starting to read the front page of the paper, and just said “the usual.”
“Uh, excuse me, miss?” I heard a man’s voice say, aside from the usual woman who served me.
“Oh, uh…I’m sorry. Where’s Angela?”
“She works the afternoon shift now. I just started working here today. My Name’s Chris.” He stuck out his hand. I shook it, but was still a little confused. Normally, when someone is working behind a counter at a coffee shop for their first day, they don’t try to become buddy-buddy with every customer, now do they? Well, I excused him anyway. He seemed like a respectful man. He had blonde hair that was a little over grown, but well kept. A thin blonde mustache matched it, but what caught my attention was the subjects hiding behind those thick-rimmed glasses.
He had bright, auburn eyes. They were a reddish brown color, with a touch of orangey yellow around the edges.
I stared into his eyes without saying a word, and I couldn’t look away. I felt a little faint for a second, and I realized I wasn’t breathing. I noticed that he hadn’t said or done anything either. The man behind my nudged us angrily, so I quickly just walked away and sat at the small table in the back corner. I realized then that I had forgotten to order any coffee, but I sat there and read my paper anyway. A white cup with steam escaping from it found itself to the table in front of my paper, and I saw Chris sit down across from me.
“Hey, umm, I thought I’d give you this. You were here all by your lonesome, and looked like you needed some cheering up.” He said. I stared at him again for a moment, but I quickly looked away, avoiding his eyes.
“Oh, well, thank you, Chris. That’s very thoughtful of you.” I said, a bit emotionless, and went back to reading my paper. I noticed from the corner of my eye that he leaned in a little closer to me.
“You never told me your name.” He said, seeming intrigued. I looked up at him and raised an eyebrow.
“What?”
“Well, I told you my name was Chris, and I even held out my hand for you to hold, but then…I don’t know. I looked into your eyes and I just…I…” He looked down. I was a little taken aback when he said he held out his hand for me to hold, and not for me to shake. I studied him. He looked like he was about to cry, and it seemed like he was avoiding looking at me.
“My name is Cindy.” I said, smiling. I hoped he would cheer up. He smiled, and then he chuckled nervously.
“I’m sorry for seeming so rude. It’s just…” He trailed off, and I noticed a wedding band around his left ring finger. I felt a little bit of a discomforting feeling inside me, like anger or jealousy, whence I saw it.
“It’s just what?” I asked.
“It’s…it’s your eyes. They’re forest green, with a lighter green around the pupil.”
“Yeah…so?”
“My wife had the same eyes.”
“Well, your wife and I have some similarities then.”
“My wife died a year ago. Exactly a year ago today, actually. We were celebrating a year of marriage together, so I took her out to eat, and the place was robbed. She was killed in the crossfire…” His eyes went mellow. I froze, and I felt close to him, even though I had just met him. I placed my hand on top of his left hand. He studied my ring, but I ignored it.
“You still wear the ring as a reminder of her love.”
“Yes, how did you know.”
“I do the same.” I said, and swallowed to keep down all the bad feelings. “Exactly a year ago, my fiance proposed to me as a gift, so to speak, for our second anniversary. We were also at a restaurant, and there was a gun fight going on in the parking lot. He died in my arms after spinning me around in absolute happiness.” He wrapped his hand around mine and looked into my eyes. I looked back, and got lost in his eyes again. I could tell he was getting lost in mine as well.
“You wear the ring so you can feel close to him, even if he can never be here.”
“Yes, I do.”
We spent the rest of the morning opening up to each other completely. We spilled all of the feelings that we both had been bottling up, and we even cried a little together. Before we knew it, it was noon and the morning was over.
“Oh, it’s 12. I…I should get back.” He said, glancing back at the counter. I could see that he was worried, as he just remembered now that he was supposed to be working all morning and not spending time with me.
“I should get home anyway.” I said, and flashed him a smile. He flashed me a smile back.
“Can I walk you outside?”
“That would be nice.” We got up from the table, and he linked his hand with mine. We walked outside the doors of the coffee shop, and he turned to look at me.
“Hey, do you want to meet again for breakfast tomorrow morning?” I smiled at the thought, and nodded.
“I’d like that.” I replied. He smiled, and then he became serious. I did the same. He started to lean in, and I leaned up to follow. He pressed his lips to mine, and for once in a year, I had feeling in my heart aside from emptiness. He pulled away, and looked in my eyes for one last time, then went back inside.
On the entire walk home, I was happy, and I had to stop myself from smiling too much. Chris and our breakfast the next morning was all that was on my mind. Yet, the second I got home, I retreated to my room and cried. I cried and cried until I could not cry anymore. I grabbed a pen and a piece of paper, and started writing.
Dear Tom,
I’m so sorry. I’ve betrayed you. I kissed another guy, and I have feelings for him as well, to make it even worse. He asked for plans, a date, tomorrow morning, and I had the nerve to say yes. I am more sorry than I have ever been, and I promise I will go down there and tell him that nothing can happen between us ever again. Please forgive me.
Love always, Cindy
I placed the letter into an envelope, and licked it closed. I scribbled the name I knew best, ever since birth, onto the middle front of the envelope; God.
I placed the letter in my mailbox, and lifted the red flag.
That night, I prayed to God that he would give Tom my letter of apology. I knew that he always watched over me, and I did not want him to remain in heaven as disappointed.
—
The next morning, things changed. I did not have the same memory in my dreams last night, and so I did not wake up crying. I did not feel the urge to caress the ring around my finger either. I was eager to go outside to the mailbox to see if God had taken my letter, but I was saddened to see the red flag up. I placed it down, and opened the mailbox to take back my rejected letter. However, I was surprised to see that this was not my envelope.
In my hand laid a white envelope with an elegant silver design around all the edges. I pulled out a piece of paper from inside it.
My darling Cindy,
You are not forgiven, for you did not do anything wrong. My love for you was the strongest there ever was, and it continues to be that way even when I’m this far away. I am always in your heart, and always looking out for you. A year and one day ago, I promised to love, cherish, and honor you for the rest of eternity.
I’ve sent you an angel to do that for you until I can. Please accept it, and know that I am always here, even if you can’t see me.
Love, Tom.
I held the letter to my heart, and I smiled. I darted my eyes around, and then stopped. I felt a cold spot on my cheek, and much warmth in my heart. For the first time in my life, I closed my eyes, and felt the wind wash over me with bliss.
-xLLSx-
The Dress
“Owch!”
It started with a dress.
“Ah…Oh no!” Blood trickling down my leg, I winced uncontrollably. It stained my mother’s beautiful yellow sundress, its ripped edges becoming even more withered with wetness. I looked up at him, shocked.
“This was my mother’s…you know how important she was to me!” The backside of his hand silenced me, and knocked me off of my standing posture as well, ripping my mother’s only record of life left even more, to a point of no return. Water slid down my cheeks as the horror grew inside me. I lied there on the ground, breathing heavily, and not wanting to move. The edge of the dress was caught on a single chain link, and I did not want to ruin it any more than he already had.
“You said you’d changed…” I choked out.
“So did you.” He said fiercely. He knelt down to me and gripped my face in his hand, without an ounce of gentility within him.
“You love me, right?” he demanded. Another tear ran down my face, but I stayed silent.
“Right?” he rose his voice, and tightened his grip on my face. It hurt me, and forced me to slightly squirm. I jerked my leg into the crevice of my waist, forgetting that my mother’s dress was desperately hanging on to the edge of that fence. The sound of the tear rang in my ears.
“Yes…yes, I love you. I do.” I answered, barely able to contain my emotions.
“Then don’t say no.” He said, not a bit of feeling going through his expression.
“I told you, I’m saving myself for marriage. It was my mother’s final wish.” He grabbed me by the shoulders, and lifted me up to my feet. He forced me against the fence once again, the chain links stabbing me in the back.
“Enough about your god damn mother, girl! She’s gone, you hear me? You have me now. If you love me, you’ll do what I say, got it?” he screamed at me. I cringed, and looked away from him, completely and utterly bawling. I refused to answer him after he had insulted my mother like that. He smiled a sarcastic smile and loosened his grip on my body.
“You foolish wench. I could easily find another whore to fuck, and you just sit there.” He waited. I stayed silent.
“Well? Are you going to just let that happen?” I looked at him, clearing away any emotion from my face. I said nothing. I could see the fire burning up in his eyes, and I knew what was coming, but I stood like a statue. I would take anything necessary for me to take, but I will not take this any longer. Shredding my mother’s dress and swearing her name was the final straw. I prayed to her in my head to keep me safe, and watched the fire grow.
He smacked me across the face very hard, and it knocked me to the ground. The chain links had betrayed me again, tearing up the remaining fabrics of the dress.
“Worthless.” He muttered, and left me there all alone, with nothing to comfort me but lonely pieces of yellow cotton.
—-
I’m thankful that my last time with Andrew was at nighttime, as I was forced to travel home in just my underwear.
It’s now morning, and the sun has never shined so bright and dark at the same time. I’m so thankful that I don’t have to return to him anymore. Mother always told me that love is a virtue. Love is kind, forgiving, and is never selfish or boastful. It’s the only lie she’s ever told.
This bright and sunny morning has clouds that are unseen to anyone but me. I’m walking down the street with a box containing the remaining pieces of my mother’s dress. I’m wearing my baggiest jeans and an old beatles t-shirt. My hair is a mess, and tied up into the sloppiest of ponytails. All that’s on my mind is Andrew, and how I could not believe that he was capable of doing something this horrible to me.
I stood still and silent at the edge of the dumpster, balancing the box on the edge. Tears started rolling down my face again, and I wiped them away quickly with the back of my hand.
“Hey girl!” I heard a voice from across the parking lot, and darted my eyes to the source. A young man, about my age, with long shaggy hair, a straw hat, and jeans as baggy as mine was coming closer to me.
“Is that box bothering you?” He asked, in a thick country accent. I wondered what he was trying to pull, but moreso what a country boy was doing in the suburbs. He look like he came straight off of a farm.
“Uh…no. I’m fine, thanks.” I said, without looking at him. I thought I was a little rude, but I thought nothing of it. This boy was meddling into my business when I was going through such a rough time. He has no idea who he’s even messing with.
“Name’s Noah.” He held out his hand. I stared blankly at it, and then met his eyes. They were strange color, like a honey brown. Almost hazel, but not quite.
“Excuse me?” It was hard not to chuckle at him. He was so straightforward.
“Th’ name’s Noah, ma’am. Say, whatcha’ throwin’ out all that fabric there for?” He seemed interested in the pieces of the dress. I gripped it tighter. I had this vibe that he was up to no good.
“It’s a dress. Well, was a dress.” I looked at it sorrowfully, playing with it in my mind. Noah walked over to the dumpster and leaned on it, leaning on his hand with his elbow on the same ledge my box was balancing on. He looked at me like he knew me. It was discomforting.
“Not yours, ain’t it?” I looked at him curiously. His eyes seemed innocent, but I knew he couldn’t have been. My breath seemed to be missing, and it was hard to find my voice.
“Wh…what?” My eyebrows made a crinkle in my forehead as I raised my voice at him.
“Well, yer lookin’ at it like yer givin’ up a baby, miss. It ain’t yers.” I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. I closed it and looked at the ground, shaking my head. I looked into his eyes, and they were mellow. They sparkled in the sunlight, and I felt lost in them for a split second, before remembering my words.
“Look, I don’t know you and you don’t know me, so how-“
“I told you my name was Noah. Ya already know me.” He cut me off. I wanted to glare at him, but I stayed as respectful as was possible. A name doesn’t define a person. I started to say something again, but stopped myself. I just grabbed my box and walked away.
“It was yer mother’s, wasn’t it, miss?” I stopped. How would he know that? Have I met this boy and I just forgot? Is he psychic?
I slowly turned around, and stood there for a few seconds contemplating what to do. I walked back to the dumpster and placed my box back on the ledge. That’s when I notice that he hadn’t moved, nor had his expression changed at all.
“How did you know that?” I inquired.
“So it was yer mother’s.” I hesitated, but then let go. I don’t know what came over me in that moment. All the protection, the walls over my heart, they collapsed in that moment.
“Yes, it was.”
“Tell me ‘bout ‘er.” His eyes sparkled again. I didn’t think.
“She died two years ago, right after I graduated college. My mother was naive. She believed in love, and she thought it could conquer everything. She and my father had divorced when I was a child, and ever since then, she had all these crazy thoughts in her head about finding the ‘right one.’ She thought she had. She met a man, a sailor, one day, and she thought she fell in love with him. She went on all his trips, followed him everywhere, and he betrayed her. He took her for everything she had, and then left without a trace. She couldn’t handle it.” I looked down, ready to cry, but I didn’t. I felt shocked. This was the first time I had ever told my mother’s story without crying at the end. Noah chuckled, and I looked at him angrily. I couldn’t understand how he could laugh after hearing something like that.
“She ain’t naive fer fallin’ in love, ma’am. She’s naive for killin’ ‘erself!” I stared at him in disbelief, trying to take in what he just said. He didn’t know what he was talking about. I’ve learned from my mother that love is nonexistant, and I hated him for calling her out on her suicide.
He looked as if he was reading every thought in my mind. I looked down at the contents of the box again, and began to tilt it in the direction of the trash. Noah’s arm stopped me. It held the box in place, keeping it from spilling the fabrics.
“Why’re you throwin’ out her dress?”
“Isn’t it obvious? It’s completely shredded.” He looked at it, seeming deep in thought for a moment, and then looked back at me.
“Well if yer just gonna throw it out, can I have it?” I raised an eyebrow, but thought nothing of it.
“Uh, sure, I guess.” I handed him the box, and he carried it back to a faded red pickup truck. He really did come straight off of a farm. He dropped the box into the passenger seat, and then turned to me again.
“Hey, ya never told me yer name!” I literally had to think of my name, as I had forgotten it. I had no idea why. I frantically searched through my brain, wondering why I had to in the first place. It was my name.
“Umm…Allison. My name’s Allison.” He smiled at me, and took off his hat.
“Nice to meet ya, Allison. I’ll see ya around some time.” He climbed into the driver seat of the truck, and drove off. It was then, that I realized I was just standing there, staring like an idiot.
On the walk back, I found myself wondering if Noah was even real, or if I just made him up in my imagination.
‘Of course he was real.’ I thought. ‘If I made up a man, I wouldn’t have made him so rude, and definitely not a country hick.’ I felt wrong for insulting him, but I couldn’t understand it.
When I went home, the house felt very empty. I normally like the isolation, but now it just felt so…lonely. I felt the need to socialize. I never want to socialize. I just needed to calm down, that’s all.
I went into the kitchen and grabbed a mug to make myself a cup of coffee. The mug had a cow on it, with some tall grass and a scarecrow. Instinctively, I threw it against the wall.
The sound of breaking glass startled me. What did I just do? I sighed, and cleaned up the pieces, trying my best not to cut myself. I felt so uncomfortable with myself. In fact, I didn’t even feel like myself.
I went outside, and decided to go get a cup of coffee at a coffee shop. As I walked down the road again, I hated being alone with my thoughts. Some about my mother’s dress, some about Andrew, but most flickered to Noah. Noah. A boy straight out of the fields of Nebraska, stealing the pieces of my mother’s dress, calling suicide naive, Noah. I felt like I spoke too soon.
I passed by the park, and he was all of a sudden in front of me. I stopped dead in my tracks, and blinked, surprised.
“Hey, Allison.”
“Hi…Noah. What were you doing at the park? And where’s my mother’s dress?”
“I like the trails.” I noticed that he avoided the question about the dress. He probably fed it to a horse, or something.
“Say, ya wanna go out with me?” I felt this weird feeling in my gut when he asked that question. Go out? Like a date? With him? Out of the question.
“Sure.” I said, without any control. I meant to say ‘what?’ I meant to ask if he meant it to be a date. But all I said was ‘sure.’ He smiled.
“Then it’s a date.” The weird feeling was back. I’m guessing because this was wrong, and I was going on a date with some weird guy I had just met an hour ago.
He linked his hand with mine, and walked with me. I believe I blushed, but I’m not quite sure. I’m not familiar with the feeling of blushing, and I’m not familiar with the feeling I’m getting right now.
We came up to a lake. It was beautiful. I imagined him pulling out a picnic basket and wanting to eat on the edge of the water. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe this would actually be a fun date.
“Take your clothes off.” Or maybe I was wrong.
“Excuse me?” He ignored me, and took off his shirt and pants.
“Wh-what are you doing??” I exclaimed, but he ignored me again. He ran and jumped off the dock into the lake, yelling as he plunged into the water. I just looked at him. He came up to the surface, and pushed back his wet hair.
“Well, what are ya waiting for?” I still could not understand how this was considered a date.
“What are you talking about?” He came to the edge of the land near me, and looked up at me. His eyes had that same sparkle again, and they looked twice as gorgeous shimmering off the water.
“Take yer clothes off and get in!” He yelled at me. He was smiling real big. I couldn’t help but smile too. I shook my head at him.
“I don’t know…”
“If ya don’t get in, I’m gonna have to drag ya in.” He raised his eyebrows at me, and I gave him a smirk. I stripped off my shirt and pants, letting them carelessly hit the dirt. I walked along the dock, and then let myself fall into the water. It was cold. So cold, I had forgotten it was even summer. I came up to the surface, and rubbed my arms with my hands in an effort to warm myself.
“A-aren’t y-you c-c-cold-d?” I stuttered. He seemed so comfortable, but I was shivering like no tomorrow. He walked over to me, and towered over my shivering body. He came so close that our noses almost touched, and I felt my heart beating faster. It must have been that cold. I started breathing heavily, and I felt uneasy. It was a strange feeling, but I felt content.
That was, until he splashed a huge wave of water all over me.
“What’d you do that for?” I yelled, but he just started laughing, and did a backstroke to keep his distance from my rage. I then found myself laughing as well.
We were swimming and splashing at each other for what seemed like forever, until the sun started to set over the horizon. He got out of the water and started putting his clothes back on.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“Movin’ on to the next part of our date, of course. Unless ya wanna walk in public in yer underwear.” He smiled, but I was revisited by an unwelcome flashback; walking home after Andrew shredded my mother’s dress. As I got dressed, I wondered what had happened to my mother’s dress, and then I remembered that Noah fed it to a horse. Or something.
I followed him through a trail in the woods behind the lake, and realized that I probably shouldn’t have worn flip-flops today. Then again, I didn’t know that I was going on a country version of a date today either, so I excused myself.
We came to a meadow of wheat stalks. Yes, wheat stalks. This was the spot for the rest of our date. No cinema, no cafe, no fancy diner. A field of wheat stalks.
He walked to the middle of the field, and then looked up, squinting at the sun. His hair blew in the wind, already dry, looking so soft. His eyes sparkled like no other. I had that feeling in my gut again, the content feeling. I stood still, and felt like I couldn’t move, nor did I want to.
He looked at me with his sparkling eyes, and motioned for me to come next to him. I walked next to him, and followed where his eyes were. He was looking at the sunset, and so I did as well. I gasped. I witnessed the most beautiful sight I had ever seen. The sunset hovered over the deep blue lake, with forest bordering it. You could clearly see the dock we jumped off of, and the trees created a pretty silhouette. You could see everything, and it was breathtaking.
He put a hand on my cheek, and I noticed he had turned himself to face me. I did the same.
“Allison, did ya know that you were beautiful?” I blinked, not knowing what to say. So, I leaned up, and kissed him. I didn’t know what was happening, and I didn’t know what I was feeling, but what I did know, was that this was what I wanted to be doing.
Everything I’ve ever known changed in that moment. My mother was not naive, I was.
—-
I’ve never woken up from a smile, until today. Last night, Noah kissed me goodbye on the front porch of my tiny little house, and made fun of me for my suburb lifestyle. He was so strange and frustrating. We kissed many times that night. After that first kiss, everything just got better. I couldn’t sleep for about an hour, due to thinking about everything. My feelings, my actions, my thoughts.
I came to one conclusion; love exists, and I feel it for Noah.
It’s crazy to think that I’ve spent my entire life thinking that love was just a fairytale found in movies, and within a single day that started out to be the worst, my entire life’s philosophy had changed.
I had my heart set on today since last night. Ever since I came to that conclusion, I’ve been set on telling him today. I took a shower, got dressed, brushed my teeth, all in the course of 30 minutes, which is so fast for me. I left my house, and took a walk down the road again.
He told me where he lived last night, as if he knew that I was planning on visiting him the next morning. I had a feeling that he probably did. Somehow, he just knew everything. That was another thing that happened last night. We stayed in that field and talked for hours, and he didn’t seem shocked by a single thing. Not by Andrew, not by my total disbelief in love, nothing. He accepted me for everything that I am.
It seems like my assumptions have always been right. When I came up to his house, it was a tiny house with a huge yard, built of tall grass that couldn’t have been cut in months.
He was leaning against the side of his house, looking out into the sky. I walked across the yard a little, and he turned around at the sound of my footsteps. He smiled when he saw me, and ran over to me.
“There’s something I have to tell you.” I said. I took a deep breath, and looked deep into his eyes. They seemed so happy, and I smiled at the thought.
“What is it, dear?” My heart fluttered at the word ‘dear,’ and I felt like a school girl all over again. I smiled again, and closed my eyes, taking another deep breath.
“I love you.” I proclaimed, and it felt so good inside after I had finally said it.
“Can ya wait ‘ere a sec?” He said, and not waiting for me to answer, he went inside his little house. My smile disappeared, and suddenly I was angry and sad at the same time. Did I scare him? Did he lead me on?
Before I could tear myself apart too much, he came outside to meet me. He held it in his hand, and I put my hands over my mouth in disbelief. I ran over to him and hugged him as tightly as I could. I erased all my thoughts from before. There was no way he was leading me on. I knew he loved me when I saw it, all completely together. I could not believe he did this for me.
It ended with a dress.
-xLLSx-
(via marriages)
