It was just two weeks. Fourteen insignificant and excruciating days since Miley Stewart's entire world had crashed. Her eyes welled up with tears as her brain touched on the subject. She had carefully avoided any thoughts she may have to how it had happened. That was something she never wanted to picture.
She clutched at the dark fabric of her black dress and let herself drop down onto her bed. Because it was only her bed now. He no longer shared it with her. She felt the familiar sting of tears and the uncomfortable lump rising in her throat. She allowed the warm moisture to escape her eyes and smear her carefully done makeup. She removed her hand from it's vise-like grip on her silky gown and used it to wipe the tears away. Today was the day she had been dreading. She had to face him one last time and tell him her final goodbye. It was something she never thought she would have to do.
In fact, this day was supposed to be the happiest of her life. Right now, she shouldn't have been in this dark, depressing dress. She should be in her elegant and supple long white gown. She should be smiling, and getting her hair and makeup perfected for the best day of her existence. She lifted herself up off the bed that no longer held any meaning to her and turned to the mirror to stare into her red, glistening eyes. She almost laughed at the bitter irony of this entire day.
As she stared into the mirror, a small square photograph tucked into the corner caught her attention. She lifted it from it's place and examined it carefully. She half smiled at the site of the attractive man, standing straight and stiff. His curly hair had been cut down to a generic buzz cut, which was barely visible under the dark green had that adorned his head. She took in his entire form carefully, making sure to remember this photo when she saw him again today. She memorized every little crevice in his neat uniform, every crease made in his face by his small smile. She saved his eyes for last. They were the deep brown she had always found so warm and inviting. They seemed to be staring straight back at her. She could almost hear his voice, exactly what he would say at this very moment. She turned the photo over and placed it back in it's former position backwards.
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This entire process was oddly tiring. So many people hugged Miley when she made her way down to the small area reserved for this devistating event. She barely registered the people that embraced her, barely acknowledged them except to answer the many "I'm so sorry for your loss" 's and "I'm here for you" 's. The only two people she even bothered to speak to were Kevin and Joe. They understood this painful feeling of loss the most. Kevin's curly hair was glistening, probably a product of his mother making sure he looked nice. He and Joe wore matching dark suits with plain black ties. Their simple wardrobe matched Miley's entirely as they took their place sitting next to her silently. The only acknowledgement either of them gave was when Joe gently placed a package of tissues in Miley's hand. She grasped them tightly.
The fact that this was taking place outside was definitely fitting. He had loved to be outside. That's why a majority of the time he'd taken Miley out, they had done something physical and out in the open. She had loved it. One time in particular made it's way to the front of her brain as the preacher began to speak.
"This is so beatiful," Miley whispered had shrugged.
"I suppose it's pretty," he admitted. "But using the word beautiful without referring to you makes no sense to me."
Miley had laughed lightly. "Oh come on." She gestured to the glorious sunset in front of them. They were both lying on the hood of his car, Miley almost laying on top of him, with their arms wrapped around each other tightly.
He had smiled and taken one hand from around her waist and brushed it lightly across her cheek. "I'm serious."
Miley had rolled her eyes, but let it go. She didn't want to taint this moment with her stubborness. "I love you," she stated simply, ending the coming arguement before it started. He had only kissed her forehead lightly in response. Then he had studied her face for a moment and put a finger under her chin, forcing her to look into his deep brown eyes. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing," Miley had answered automatically. Then when he had raised his eyebrows, she shrugged and said, "I was just thinking...about next week." He had sighed.
"Miley," he scolded her softly. "I told you not to worry about that. Hey, I mean it." She had attempted to look away. "I promise you I will come back to you."
"How do I know that?" Miley had asked.
"You want to know how I know that?"
She had nodded. He loosened his grip around her and jumped off the hood of the car. Miley sat up, about to question him, but he had held up a finger to silence her.
He put his hand in his pocket and kept it there. He walked up to the edge of the car, took Miley's hands in his and stared straight into her confused blue eyes. "Miley, I love you. I love you more than I've ever loved any other human being on this planet." He knelt down onto one knee. "Miles...will you do me the honor of marrying me?" He removed his hand from his pocket to reveal a small black box. He opened it to reveal a glistening ring.
"Let us now bow our heads and pray."
Swallowing the memory, Miley bowed her head, though no prayer was running through her mind. After the moment of silent prayer, the entire party stood. Miley noticed that Joe and Kevin had abandoned her right side and were now standing up in front of everyone else. Kevin was holding an old acoustic guitar. The moment his fingers touched the strings, and Joe's voice rang out over the crowd, Miley's already damp eyes flooded over. It was the single saddest thing she had ever heard. She sobbed through the entire composition, the lyrics and melody ringing in her ears.
Joe and Kevin slowly walked back to stand next to her. Joe brushed her shoulder and gestured toward a man in uniform holding an American flag, folded trianguly. She walked forward numbly and took the flag from him. She clutched it to her chest tightly, holding on to all she had left of him now. She was completely deaf to everything around her until among the muffled voices guns rang out. The sharp shots felt as if they had pierced directly through her heart and she let out a broken sob. She was struggling to catch her breath, and keep herself together in front of his relatives and cherished friends. She felt a pat on her shoulder, but she had no idea who had delivered it.
She felt like she was seeing the rest of the day from the point of a view of a stranger. As if she was watching all the beloved relatives and friends grieve and trade conversation. She was painted into the background, looking from a thousand miles away. The only thing she could think of were those untrue words she had held onto for so long. "I promise you I will come back to you." She left the yard behind the church that day, a different way than she believed she would have only two weeks ago. She walked away Miley Stewart. She would not today, nor any other day of her existence, walk away from the church as Mrs. Nick Jonas.
Baby, why'd you leave me?
Why'd you
have to go?
I was countin' on forever,
Now I'll never know,
I can't even breathe,
It's like I'm looking from a distance,
Standing in the background,
Everybody's saying
"He's not coming home now..."
