Strawberry Wine.

Prologue:

She has changed my life forever. She has made me who I am today. She made me dream and made me believe in myself. She taught me how to love but never how to stop. She showed me that the smallest gestures can change anything, even the world. I believe in love, in God, in people, in life, because of her. Spending a day with her could teach you and bring you more savoir-vivre than a lesson of a lifetime could. She was pure, unique and different. I had never met someone like her and I know I never will.

Her porcelain face, the softness of her skin, her eyes, glittering in the twilight, her delicate and tender rose lips, her touch, her whole being will forever be engraved into my heart, into my soul, into my senses.

I was twenty when my life changed everlastingly. My friends, at that time had never been able to understand what I was feeling, and to be honest, I don't think they even do now. I'm pretty sure that there are some people who cannot comprehend that just one person can change your life for always. I know I wouldn't if I hadn't experienced it myself. When people ask me why I've been single most of my life, they expect me to tell everything about my life and my relationships with women. They expect me to be the kind of guy who cannot settle down with a woman when in fact this is everything but that. I believe when you've loved someone so much, the mere thought of being with someone else is unbearable. It makes you feel like you are betraying that one person and believe me, this is probably one of the most hurtful feeling that exists.

I live in a small city, close to Houston, and I've lived here practically all my life. This is where the story had begun and this is where it had ended. Only people who knew me during these years can eventually understand me. Only them. It would take such a long time to explain other people what had happened between the years 1978 and 1979. Those persons are generally curious enough to ask, but they never bother to hear me out completely. I couldn't care less any way. This is my life, my story and this is personal. They don't need to know even though it could be interesting for them. It could teach them to enjoy every minutes of the moments you spend with your loved ones and never ever take anything for granted. You always end up regretting that.

What am I saying? I am being somewhat selfish when I say that this is MY story. It isn't, in fact. It can be, however, since it affected me the most but it isn't fully mine. It is also the story of all the people who lived in our small town which was a few miles away from Houston, Texas because this was something that all of us had lived through...

It is November 17, Christmas is coming up, and so is winter. I still think about her all the time. Even now, I am thinking about her as I am sitting in my office chair, looking through some papers work. I could not be thinking about someone else. It is a cold day, and as I am writing down on my thick bleached paper with my inked pen, I can hear the soft, nostalgic and morose breeze of the wind. My lips let out a relatively noisy sigh and I glance around for my watch. It reads forty-five minutes past four. I look at the window again. We can definitely tell it's November. The sun goes down earlier than usual, and the darkness comes around five in the afternoon. Deciding that I am done with my work for the day, I get up and grab my warm jacket nonchalantly. As I am about to leave my office, I look around one more time and make sure I don't forget anything. For some unknown reasons, I find myself smiling a little bit and I finally turn off the light and walk away.

The ride from my dental office to my house is surprisingly pleasant. The softened sound of the radio playing country songs make me unconsciously move my head to the right and to the left in rhythm. I know if she was with me right now, the first thing she would have done was turn on the radio and find a great country station. She would sing along to the radio, and I'd look at her in a very amused way and chuckle quietly at how she'd know every song that was being played. As I drive past the bus I used to run for when I was a little kid, I catch myself smiling. I stop my car and close my eyes tightly, as memories of my childhood come back to me in a flash. It looks so real in my head that I feel like it's not just my imagination trying to reminisce those moments but that it is reality. I feel like this is happening. I see my wrinkles blur away and my body get smaller. I am now picturing myself as a child and I can even hear the carefree laughter of my friends and myself when we were playing around that area.

I am fifty-three years old, I am far from being a child now but I still can remember the joyful and the sorrowful younger years of my life. I keep my eyes closed and the thoughts of my childhood are soon followed by the memories of the year 1978 and 1979. My name is Brock Hart. I'm studying dentistry, I am twenty and I am far from knowing that I will fall in love with the most uncommon girl on the planet. A country girl, from a big city with a loud accent, dazzling red hair with a personality completely different from mine. Nothing, nobody could have expected us to fall in love with each other. No one could have predicted that. It just happened.

The intact memories of my past, run so fast into my mind, it almost frightens me. I relive those years often in my mind, late at night. It always depresses me and sometimes also makes me happy. It is a combination between joy and sadness. Something I could not describe. I wish I could turn back time and go back to 1978. But I am also proud of who I am now, of my life. These years are probably not the greatest of my life but I'd not want to go back to my younger years, and take the sadness away, simply because the joy would be gone, as well as the paths I've chosen. All the way I've made to get where I am today would be gone too. And I don't think I want to. Sometimes, you just have to accept that past cannot be rewritten and you need to go on with your life. As hard as it sounds, you don't have another option.

I shake my head quite violently and chase the memories away. I slowly open my eyes and look straight ahead. I am sitting in my car; both my hands are grabbing the steering wheel. I take a deep breath and turn my head to the side. I pause and bite my bottom lip gently. There it is this good ol' church at the corner of the street. We would have spent a lot of hours in that church, praying and singing. This was the place where we would have wanted to get married if our relationship had lasted that long… A feeling of guilt comes over me. I haven't been to that church in such a long time. In my defense, I have been pretty busy with the office and everything. But this isn't a good excuse. I should probably go to the ceremony they're planning on doing on Sunday. Yes, I will go. Because this is what she would have wanted.

Here's my story. I'll tell you everything. In every single detail I remember. I won't hide you anything. Some will smile. Some will cry. But none of you will stay indifferent…

{Author's Note}: Hi guys! This is the prologue of my new fan-fiction, as you can tell. This is a very different storyline from the show. You've probably already guessed it, this is a Brock/Reba story but it has nothing to do with the show. Some characters will appear in it (I am not telling you who though) and I just hope you will like it! Read and tell me what you think! Reviews are gladly appreciated and help me ameliorate my writing and motivate me. I got the whole storyline in my head; I just have to write it now. Thanks for reading!

Ps: This is my first REAL fan-fiction EVER. I've wrote a song-fic before but that is all. Please, be nice! And sorry if this is kinda crappy.