The Movement of Time
The sun was setting for the day to give way to the moon, a mere shadow of the sun's brilliance throughout the night. But lucky for the moon, it has many glittering stars to assist it in creating a unique brilliance for the night sky. As the sun set she was reminded of the warmth of his arms wrapped around her when she had needed a shoulder to cry on and a friend to listen to her woes.
Where had the time gone? Now in mere months a man whom she had never loved will hold her hand in marriage and she will be powerless to stop it. He wasn't a scary man, he wasn't even ugly in either personality or profile; he was a decent fellow with a passion for music and good manners who knew how to treat a lady right. She didn't know why she shied away from such a man, but she did so anyway. She didn't want to be looked upon as a lady, she wanted to be looked upon as a companion without the trifles of chivalry to get in the way.
She smiles sadly to herself. That's how he was. That's how the man she truly loves is. He didn't care if she was a girl or not, but he always respected her company and treated her as if she were any old boy. But there was a certain softness to him at times, a softness that he would try to hide with some sort of bravado. However, there was that one time he didn't try to hide that sweet side of his. It was just once and in this very meadow...
She had come to him for comfort because the boys had taken to picking on her once they had found out she really wasn't a boy. She couldn't remember how long she had cried on his shoulder nor could she be expected to repeat the soothing words of wisdom and comfort he had whispered to her in her ear, but she did remember that once she had stopped crying he held her for moment and said, "You know, you're beautiful as a girl. But I must admit, I'm jealous – it's not our little secret any more." Then he picked a flower from the meadow and tucked it into her hair and gave her a kiss on the cheek. The flower, which was later identified as a geranium, is to this day tucked into one of her romance novels so that it will be preserved for as long as physically possible. They had fallen asleep that night in the meadow and she had woken up with his arms wrapped around her. He had still been asleep so she took the time to capture the moment with her eyes. His silver hair glistened with the first rays of light and after a time he had begun to wake up and his ruby red eyes were smokey with the shadow of sleep. She smiled at the thought. She didn't believe him at all when he had said those words to her, but now in the very same meadow, watching the scene play out before her in her mind's eye she could believe him. She could truly believe that he thought she was beautiful.
With new found courage she stood up confidently and broke into a run towards her home. She packed everything she thought she would need which was clothes and little money. After contemplating with herself for a while she decided to take a book with her as well. With a suitcase packed she set about following her heart for the first time in a while and probably for the last.
Moments of frozen time are scattered across his living room floor, printed on various sizes of photo paper. They showed him simpler times; times where it was okay to hold each other close without there being any meaning deeper than that they were lonely and scared, but now... now things were different. In a matter of months she would be another man's and he would be left with nothing but his memories and his feelings for her. He's wanted so desperately to tell her and how much time he's spent thinking keenly upon this subject he would never admit to anyone... not even to her.
With a heavy heart he begins to pack away all the pictures into a box that would be put at the top of his closet for the future – so the future him would go through the closet wondering what the dusty box conceals and then a fresh wound would be opened over the barely healing scar on his heart when he would open the box. After all, that would be a suitable punishment for loving another man's woman. No. She was never nor will ever be just a woman, she will forever be the most amazing and spectacular person he had ever met and the only one to ever possess his heart – whether she knew it or not.
While in the middle of packing away the last of the photos into what you could call a time capsule the doorbell rings its soft tinkling ring and it reminds him so much of her little laugh. He sits there a moment imagining something that used to play out quite often when they were younger. He would be sitting in the grass while she would twirl about with her arms outstretched to the heavens in her green maiden's dress with her pure white apron attempting to follow suit. Her chestnut hair would flow about her only causing her to look more like the most beautiful angel in human form. Then she would suddenly stop, look over her shoulder with her emerald eyes and the brightest smile that seemed to defy all possibility with its radiance and say something silly like "Gilbert, isn't the sky just so blue today?" Then he would retort with something like "The sky is always blue, Eli." Then would come her matter-of-fact tone and another response from her that was always different. He smiles to himself in bliss at the thought of her and her purity.
Another ring from the doorbell brings him back to reality and he gets up to answer the door, leaving his time capsule only partially packed for the future. When he opens the door his eyes drop down to the sitting figure on his doorstep who stares out at his lawn with a suitcase of who knows what and a book stacked neatly on top of it. "What are you doing here?" he asks somewhat harshly. The person's head turns, revealing emerald green eyes that are glistening with the threat of tears.