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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1119758-A-Story-my-last-days
Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Romance/Love · #1119758
I wrote this Sept 20th, 2005. A friend said this was the SADDEST thing she ever read...
It was a slow, easy night. Save for the sounds of Davis’ Kind of Blue, there was nary a peep from elsewhere. He stared at his computer screen, waiting. Nothing. He wondered how he came this far. How his life turned out this way. He was a content man. Living, day to day. Never really questioning his existence. He just knew that things were suddenly changing. A far cry from the last 6 months of his life. He had fallen in love. Sure, he thought he was in love many times before, but this time, it was different. This was someone who he could “talk” to. Someone who shared the same ideas and never had to contrive fascination, nor feign interest, in things they wanted to talk about. He could never understand why. Boredom usually set in after the first month. But here he was, 6 months later, still madly in love with someone that he knew he could always have fallen in love with.

She had left a week ago. “I have things to do,” she said. He knew. She had to work towards those goals she had set for herself. He shared the same goals. Except his involved his staying. He couldn’t go. He wanted to, so badly. He knew that his place was by her side, and hers, by his. They had been practically inseparable for all these months, and here he was, sitting alone in his 2 bedroom flat, wondering if things would change. Hoping that they wouldn’t.

When they had met, there was a spark. A connection. Something, unexplainable. They both knew. A simple question set upon a stage for what would be the greatest love, imaginable. It didn’t take long. 3 months later they embarked on what would be the most thrilling love-story since Caesar and Cleopatra. Most nights they never even considered sleep. Many hours of talk. Interesting words, never forced, yet put together in a fashion that they could only understand. Intercourse was never on their mind. It was a mental connection that was their orgasm. Physically, it was a fire! Hotter than a flame from the sun! And what they shared together in those intimate moments, more than likely could never be felt between two other people, ever.

Of course, everything was not as perfect as it seemed. There were complications. And they both set out to correct those complications, the best that they could. All those minor problems aside, they did very well. In public, they were as giddy as two teenagers embarking on that first, fast ride to love. But between these two, it was no mere crush. Nor puppy-love. They had both seen enough in this twisted world, experienced all they needed to experience, in this cruel twist of fate they call love. And when the eyes of these two met, that many months ago, it all made sense. THIS is what love is. THIS is what truly falling into someone, means. Head over heels? Try every bone in your body screaming for sustenance. The elixir of love, the only cure. And they had achieved what most people only see in the movies, or dream about when they lie awake at night, wishing upon a star.

Their last two days were the most exciting. They were the way they were, before. Yeah. Some things had changed a month back. It was an uncomfortable feeling. One of not knowing where to go next, and the other of sheer anxiety. She had decided her place was back home. He decided it wasn’t worth the pain. But they had gone too far, already. One moment of insanity, violence, and stupidity proved that they were meant to be together. It was ugly. Yet, it was satisfying to know that the place they belonged, was in each other’s hearts. It was settled. She would go home for a bit, take care of business. He would resolve to sit and take care of his own. It wasn’t ending. It was just a speed-bump on the highway of love. But, oh, how those two days were spent. In each other’s arms. Eye to eye. Cheek to cheek. Flesh against flesh. If there were ever a time when two bodies could fuse, it was then. She said good-bye to great friends, as they shared a last drink and had their final meal, together. Then they both left their friends, promising to meet up, in the future, again. They went home together, spoke for a few hours (for old times, sake), then laid down and experienced “that ol’ magic,” one last time.

Two hours later and they were off to the airport. Anxiety had already set in right before they went to sleep, two hours prior. But he had to be strong. “Don’t let her know you hurt. You’re the tough-guy, remember,” he said to himself, knowing that he was the biggest liar in the world. He was good at lying. He had done it many times before. But to her, there was nothing he could keep from her. And this time was no different. He cried all night, howling from the pain. And there was no difference on their way to the airport. His heart was aching. His chest was pounding and squeezing his life, draining his soul, slowly. His eyes had tears that could fill the Atlantic. And here he was, TAKING her to leave his world. Albeit, temporarily, but still. They shared one last breakfast together. Not good, not bad. Just something to sit and stare at each other over. Pictures taken, a tip left, and they walked.

Final boarding was called. It was going to be over soon. He started to heave. He felt like throwing up, maybe collapsing, maybe just falling asleep and finding out this was all a stupid dream. She got in line. It was then he realized that this was really happening. Every emotion of the last 6 months, every feeling, ache, pain, regret, love, happiness, wanting to hold her forever, came rushing into his heart and soul at that precise moment. It hurt, no, it killed. It was eating and eating. It was dissolving his very being. His heart was begging for the proverbial knife to be twisted, so that the pain would end. They kissed. They cried. More promises. More words, and then………….

It’s been a slow, easy night. Save for the sounds of Davis’ Blue Miles, there’s nary a peep in my home, tonight. It’s been quiet for two days. I think our home is sad, too. You’re face isn’t here to cheer it up. You, as you walk across our tile floor. The tile rubbing the bottom of your feet, cooling every step and holding every inch of you up. You, as you stare into yourself. The mirrors long for your beauty, to grace them. The blankets of our bed cry for your warmth. They wish to wrap themselves around you, to keep you safe from the bitter cold. And I…….. I long to hold you once more. To forget that awful day when I took you to leave me. When I put you upon that plane, to take you away from me. I long to stare into those beautiful seas of blue, again. To caress your hands. To feel your skin. To rub my body close to yours, so that we may be one, again.
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