Decisions

How could he love her? After all the things he had gone through, he couldn’t risk this too. Things didn’t always turn out to be seamless. In fact, most risks the young man had taken in his life were full of seams, ripping and coming apart. He loved her, yes, he realized this now, but he wasn’t allowed to, he couldn’t. It was against his morals, his opinions of love, his wishes – but isn’t that true love? The kind that you don’t want? Love, true love, is always shoved aside because it is too difficult to handle. True love stays with the people that are strong enough to handle it. But why didn’t he wish to follow his true love? She appeared perfect for him: alive, bubbly, full of energy and questions about the world. She saw beauty in architecture, nature and cities, not just the internals of a person. He, similarly, had far more questions than she about life. Pain found him as easily as if he had a neon sign on his back, directing his future choices and where they would lead him. The two were close friends, always had been, but then he had found someone else.

This girl appreciated his pain, egged it on, without him knowing. He believed she loved him, though she wasn’t in love with him. She saw his true beauty in his face only and ignored the pain seeping through the cracks. These same cracks were the ones that his true soul-mate gently patched up with tape and glue – the most temporary of fixes. So then, why was the choice to hard? Because he loved them both. By his opinion, both completed him, both girls fixed a part of him that he needed fixing. However, an omniscient point of view would beg to differ – only one completed him correctly. 

Who would he choose?
His soul-mate or his fake love?

Roses

The rose wilted pitifully over the edge of the vase, it’s peals hanging droopily as if to express the feeling of depression. It had been without water for far too long. Oh, it seemed like centuries it had gone without one little drop. But the man was not allowed to do anything to the rose except stare at it – and staring hardly quenches a flower’s thirst.

Perhaps, the rose thought, if I only just died now, I wouldn’t have to suffer anymore. Maybe if I just wilt away completely, people won’t have to remember to forget me, they’ll just forget on purpose. Oh, but how I would love to go out with one last drink.

A light under the door shone bright, the golden color clashing with the eerie grey the storm reflected in the windows to the floor. A young lady stepped in, her cloak rustling around her legs from the storm’s wind blowing through the curtain. At the sight of someone, even if it didn’t know who it was, the rose perked up a bit. The feet crossed the room in long, lady-like strides out onto the balcony. The rose heaved a sigh, another one of it’s petals floating to the top of the table it was set on. Why was it that no one seemed to notice me? the flower pondered. A cry echoed through the room and the flower turned it’s last few petals to see what the commotion was. With that turn, the rose felt it’s last few seconds coming on. As it’s last petal drifted away from it’s head, the dreary rose saw a bright light and glimpsed his overseer, a beast, a monster, float gently to the ground as a man in his lady’s arms. And it was then the beauty fell in love with the beast.

Listen!

Listen to me!

Your ears are tuning out everything I’m screaming,

My heart is aching from the noise I’m forcing out,

Listen, please!

Have I gone mute? Is my voice gone?

Do I not have a voice?

Why won’t you listen?

My head wants me to shut up and let you speak your heart out,

But my heart pounds in its cage to never give up.

Never give up.

Listen!

You shove me to the side, like a nothing.

Am I nothing to you? A mere nothing? A wisp of the faintest whisper?

Can you not focus for one second on my issues? My opinions? My views?

Have you gone deaf?

There’s no noise now, it’s silent mouthing. It’s over.

My throat has waved its white flag, so feel accomplished.

You’ve won.

You don’t have to listen anymore.

Moving On

I suppose you can’t really help it can you? With your good looks, your charm, your grace and generosity, your tenderness, peace and care. In fact, your overall goodness is a little overwhelming. It’s hard to take in so much truth in one sitting.

But here’s my problem. How do I move past you? A part of my heart is stuck to yours, but you want it to let go – I want it to let go. It, however, has a mind of it’s own. It’s obsessive, decisive, interested and broken. It doesn’t know what to do.

I don’t know either.

Help me through this.

Help me through life.

Meaning

I will create something worth meaning.

My life is meaning.

I promise you.

Unlike you – what the heck are you doing?

You expect to ride through life on looks and attitude?

Let me tell you something.

Heck no.

Don’t tell me I’m not putting effort into something of

meaning.

I AM meaning.

Everyone has meaning.

Even jerks like you.

So don’t degrade me, humiliate me, attack me, mock me, copy me, destroy me.

Give up your kamikaze mission.

It’s useless.

Unlike you.

And me.

We have meaning.

A College Christmas

It was Christmas time again and Emily sat on the small, patterned, couch by herself, her long hands tucked primly in her lap and her ankles neatly crossed together. Her fingers tapped each other impatiently, though she had no real reason to be anxious. She knew no one was coming. No one had been able to break away from their families. Not even her own. Her mother and father had been too concerned for younger Eric’s health to risk a trip out. It wasn’t as though they were that far away either. By car, maybe 8[*] hours, plane, maybe 2[*]. It could have just been for a day or two. Surely, California wouldn’t be that bad for Eric’s illness. Sure, Washington State is a totally different state but Cali had sun. Sun was good. Right?

The pitiful 6 inch tall plastic Christmas tree sat to her right, under which sat many fake 1×1 boxes to represent presents. This was Emily’s first Christmas alone and she wasn’t enjoying it. The real reason for celebrating wasn’t becoming evident to her. College was a lot harder emotionally than she had thought.

Until We Meet Again

The feeling of being in his arms again, the comfort, support, warmth was better than anything I could have ever imagined. It made me feel more secure than I had in a long time. I had felt myself melting away without him there to put me back together. Eons had passed since I had seen him, even talked to him, last. No texts, emails, phone calls, letters, telegrams, pigeon-carriers, nothing. But now, standing in front of him with his arms wrapped around me, it felt right. A perfect fit. I had always known he would come back to me, or I to him. It was the feeling of starting over fresh, almost like the excitement of the first date repeating itself, that sent chills up my spine.

Heaven was better than I had thought.

To Infatuate From Afar

My best friend sat across from me, picking at her food as though it didn’t matter. But it did. Seeing her eat was one of my most favorite things about her, among other things. Not only was she my best friend, she was the object of my affection, the love of my life, the apple of my eye, my everything. A lot of people have told me that I’m a paranoid, over-protective, obsessive, head-strong kind of guy, but I prefer to look at myself differently. I view myself as someone who will do whatever it takes to keep his loved ones from getting hurt. That isn’t so bad right?

Ah, the satisfaction of unrequited love!

Musical Pen

It’s Not Over – Chris Daughtry

Love doesn’t need words. I’d heard that phrase before but had never believed it until tonight. I’d always known he loved me, he never needed to say it, I just knew. It was in his eyes, his kind eyes. Even now, I knew he loved me. He didn’t need to say it. There was something about him when I entered the relationship that I knew he would be different. We didn’t go on typical dates, we watched movies. And now he had left it all behind. For her? Who was she? No, he loved me. I knew it. Love doesn’t need words.

Can’t Buy Me Love – The Beatles

She had matched so perfectly for him, so he had thought. She was the perfect height, great smile, gorgeous and a sparking personality – the perfect trophy wife. He had already been named number one richest man of the year, love was all he needed. Why not just buy it? That’s how every one of his problems was solved. It was the one reliable thing in his life, money was. It was always there. And now she was too. Whoever said you couldn’t buy love?

Blackbird – The Beatles

The bird perched on the tree, its wings twittering nervously about. Its beak moved impatiently, matching the scattered sight of its rich, dark eyes. The branch was thin but had enough support to hold the bird and its weight. It was a big moment for this bird. Today was the day. He would do it this time. He spread his wings open, inhaled a small breath into his tiny lungs, almost closed his eyes in fear and let his claws slip off the branch. His black shape left a silhouette on the tree against the sun.

Lonely

Rain pattered the windows in a quiet cry, the storm still light enough to leave little noise in its wake, fitting the mood. her tears matched those of the rain, falling quickly down her cheeks and rushing to the floor. How could he leave her like that? The one person she needed most and he had just up and left. He had been her rock, her strength and her lighthouse. Without him, she wasn’t even sure what she was.

The gloom of the storm penetrated the windows and reflected on her face, a deep worry line forming on her forehead, her lips turned in a frown held down by Pinocchio strings. What was her life without him? She had always been known as his, or at least as long as she could remember. She just couldn’t figure it out. There was not logic to it, no reasoning behind it, though she desperately searched every possible reason analytically. 

The sun peeked through the clouds for just a moment and then was covered again by an ever thicker cloud. ‘Maybe he would come back,’ she thought, ‘he loves me, maybe he’ll come back.’ As quickly as the clouds had changed shifts, her thoughts swung to, ‘of course he won’t. He’s gone. Get over it. Pick yourself up and move on with your life.’ The harsh and intense words startled her but she knew they were right. Yet there was just one question left to be answered.

What was she going to tell the kids?