Reminiscing
I stare blankly around the room, the blank walls, the perfectly smooth bed, the dustless furniture, and the windows, oh the windows; they are the only thing that keeps this small apartment from being completely lifeless and bare. Gone are the days where this apartment was a cheery little place, but then gone are the days of purpose.
She walked toward me like we hadn't seen each other in months, maybe even years; a smile threatening to grow wider than her own face. When in fact we had only seen each other yesterday and only two or so months ago met. I knew she was the one, the one I was to marry and to live happily ever after with. But I wasn't like any other man she had encountered before, you see, from when the day we first met I had to see her all the time. I remember her perfect pale skin, her vivid green eyes that shone when she spoke, her delicate frame. Every part of her was beautiful. To me, she was the most stunning girl I had ever beheld. And that did things to me, I couldn't share her. She was my Lauren-Kate.
Darkness emerges through the windows; the sun has almost retired for the day. The cream wall that in daylight taunts me of all the moments that held my life from death, now mourn with me. We sit in silence, darkness and hopelessness.
The date was upon us; the church was covered head to toe in pink lilies, tuberoses, gerberas, and pink roses. The fragrance was sweet, the crowd silent in anticipation, and the music harmonious. But best of all was the most beautiful of all women in white walking down the aisle to meet me. What a lucky man I am. In only a short period of time she will be mine forever.
Food tastes like dirt, the most beautiful rainbow seems to always mock me. Neighbours smile at me but really I know they are feeling sorry for me. I go outside to clear my head, to think things through, and it begins to rain. The droplets laugh at me as they splash on me, on the ground, everywhere.
"JAMES!" she was screaming at me, her cheeks red.
"What?" I remembered half-yelling back,
"Are you trying to be the worst husband?" she glared up at me. Her words stung. Of course I wasn't. I was just trying to protect her. I wanted her all to myself.
"No." I stuttered
"Well, you are doing a pretty good job. You cannot isolate me!"
"I'm not!" I had stood firm, straight, enraged by her remarks.
"Oh, yeah!" her shoulders broadened, "first my own parents, then yours, then my best friend! Yes! Best friend. And now you think you can take me away completely!"
"It's for your own good." I gritted my teeth.
She began to scream at me, and that was where I tuned out. But this time was different. It was the final straw for her, and I knew it.
"Stop, Stop, stop. Just stop." I yelled above her. She glared at me, but became silent.
"I'm sorry." That was how I started; I kept my voice calm and normal, "I know what I am doing to you. It isn't right I know. I'm sorry, but I can't help it. I can't help the fact that I can't let anyone else have you. So, go. Leave now. I am letting go. Unless, however, you still, after all the pain I have put you through, by some miracle. Still love me?"
I sit here in an old armchair, wet and miserable. It is a happier place in my memories. Everyday I do exactly the same thing at exactly the same time, however I am hopeful that she will come running back, saying that her life is not worth living without me, as mine is without her. The doorbell rings, echoing through the empty house. No one visits me. There is a sudden pang in my stomach, my adrenaline goes into overdrive. Before I know what I am doing, I am at the door, hoping. I hesitate to turn the little brass knob, knowing that what lay behind that simple wooden door would decide my fate.