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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1819548-The-death-of-a-love
Rated: E · Monologue · Melodrama · #1819548
this is a short monologue about sad memories if the past
Shadows quivered on the wall as the candle flickered, then fizzled to nothing. I could just make out the windows high in the wall. I so didn’t want to be here, especially when this place held so many memories…
Like the day he left.
I acted so distant the weeks before his departure. I didn’t want him to go on this mission. I had a bad feeling about it. Instinct, sixth sense, call it what you want to.

“Save your tears cause I’ll come back…” he whispered as he walked through that door. Even if I cried my eyes out and begged him not to depart, he wouldn’t listen. I wasn’t important enough. His reputation always mattered. He has no trouble leaving me. He does it far too easily.

His soft voice still lingers in the corners of my mind…I still hear him say: “Wait for me I’ll write you letters…”
I could see how he stammered with his eyes to the floor, but still I swore to hide the doubt. There was only a small success rate on missions like this.

Anger might have been the answer. What if I’d hung my head and said that I wouldn’t wait? He probably wouldn’t stay anyway. Now I know that it was always too late. I’m not strong enough anymore. The letter ruined all hope of his return.
I hope against hope and wish against wish that fate would bring us together for one last embrace. Only when you’ve lost all you treasured do you realize what you had to begin with.

I wish I could tell him how I felt. Did he know? Did my feelings even matter to him? Maybe. Maybe not.
I loved him, yet, sad to say the feeling wasn’t mutual.
For the first time in my life, I felt brave. I believed every time I saw him smile, that I was truly blessed. Though in the back of my mind I knew

I was only a toy to pass time with. I just hoped he would be different.
It was going to be hard to forget him. But I had to, he will now only live in my memories.

There was no use in romanticizing the dead. I should remember him the way he was.
He was cold. He was brutal. He was emotionless. I was foolish to believe that he loved me.
And for the first time in months, I cried.
I should learn not to care for another, it was my main weakness, ‘cause the more you care, the more you have to lose…
© Copyright 2011 Aralynne (aralynne at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1819548-The-death-of-a-love