BB season 6, No Hannah. 1 year.
Sorry I have been away for so long. Here is a brief little something for you, let me know if you would like me to continue.
xxxxx
He sat by the reflecting pool, at the coffee cart.
He thought about Afghanistan.
About the lives he took, and the lives he witnessed taken.
He thought about Parker, and the days he missed playing football. Missed experiences, lost time.
He regretted leaving.
The second his hand left hers he was full of regret.
His heart sunk when she looked back at him, and although he read uncertainty within her eyes, he turned away and left. He had regretted that action for 12 months.
He told himself, to lessen the pain, that he couldn't ask her for anything more. That this was what was best, for both of them.
And then weeks passed, then months without hearing from her.
He worried for her safety.
He worried that she would find love in Indonesia, and then he felt sick for thinking such things.
He wanted her to be happy.
He feared that maybe, she was unhappy. And then he feared that she was completely happy, without him.
He feared her forgetting him.
He never questioned forgetting her.
He wrote her, everyday.
The letters he held now in his hands, creased and dirty from months of weathering.
He sealed them all, but never sent them.
He realized, once he had licked the first envelope shut, that he had never even asked for an address.
He wondered if she wrote him.
If she did, he never recieved anything.
He held onto the ignorant hope that stuff like that gets lost all the time, especially when travelling so far.
He wondered if she thought of him the way he thought of her, a feeling as if his heart was thrown into his throat, and sat there uncomfortably for the year, unable to leave him but too large to swallow.
He wondered what was taking so long.
He thought about her laugh.
The way she would throw her head back and laugh without apprehension when something amused her.
He remembered it as the most vulnerable, beautiful, and open aspect of her he had the pleasure of witnessing, and on some occassions, causing.
He wondered if she was leaving her apartment now,
followed by the scent of sweet lavender and another inexplicable scent that he could only associate with her.
He wondered if they would go get coffee, a plate of french fries between them.
He considered the fact that he couldn't remember if she used ketchup or not.
His brow furrowed at this, his features aged by the desert sun and stress of the past year.
He tensed, and questioned if they had grown apart.
Not just this past year, but before.
Before Afghanistan and Maluku.
Somewhere between the night in front of the Hoover and the day they said goodbye at the airport, something had shifted.
He was determined to make things right.
He wondered if she would read his letters.
He would give them to her, of course, they were hers.
Some just spoke of his day, but others were much more emotional.
He felt as if they physically held more weight than the others.
But ultimately, he was unsure if she would notice, or if she would even want to read what they said.
Through all this, hours had passed.
The sun was setting, and he became aware when his hands grew colder in the evening air,
and looking down at the creased, dirty envelopes that held a years worth of regret, love, and heartache - he felt foolish.
He had considered everything about her.
Except, the possibility of her not showing never crossed his mind.
He never doubted that she would meet him here, a year later - just as promised.
That is, until,
she didn't.
xxxxxxx
EverythingHappensEventually Let me know what you think, I look forward to reading your comments!