Hey guys! If you've been keeping up with my profile, you'll see that I've been on vacation for the past week. However, I'm now home, and ready to present my latest project, "Love Is Just A Word"! I really do hope you enjoy. TRIP OUT!
Lucina looked down at the notebook in front of her. Old and worn out, Lucina handled it gently, opening it to reveal the name, "Isaac". She dabbed at her eyes with her shirt, an old Aerosmith shirt from a concert she went to with her boyfriend.
She remembered it too well. The trip there. The deafening sounds of premium rock. The... the trip back. The drunk driver. The accident. Four months in the hospital. The funeral.
Lucina shook the thoughts away. She pledged not to follow the patterns of grief. Not to show weakness. She had to stay strong. Ike wouldn't want her to stay depressed. But... it seems that all she can think about was how this is her fault. She could've done so many things differently.
She flipped the page to the first entry. She smiled. Ike always had a fondness to poems. He loved jotting down different stanzas from famous poets, like Robert Frost or John Milton. As she flipped through them, she stopped on one.
Ike always would ask her who her favorite poet was. At first, she would laugh at the question, thinking it was a joke. Later on, she started reading what Ike would text her. Perhaps that was what made Ike unique. Ike always tried to outfit her with different poems. The exact poem, the one Lucina fell in love with, was written below.
I held a Jewel in my fingers
And went to sleep
The day was warm, and winds were prosy
I said "'Twill keep"
I woke and chid my honest fingers,
The Gem was gone
And now, an amethyst remembrance
Is all I own
She wiped another tear.
"Why do I obsess over poems? They present a challenge," Ike would say. "They're puzzles. On the outside, it looks like absolute gibberish. However, when you look closer, you find the hidden meaning."
"So what's this one about?"
"Ah. Emily Dickinson, 'The Jewel'," Ike would reply. "Now that one is a good one for beginners. But I'll let you figure it out on your own."
Huh. What irony, that he would be the one to tell her. Love was the jewel. She turned another page. This section was devoted to him and his creations. He was always writing things- from his family to what he ate for breakfast. Lucina would always joke around about how she got less attention than his notebook. It all seems so trivial now.
Skimming through, she realized that most of this stuff was about her. About how she smiles in the cutest way, or is adorable when angry. Lucina couldn't help but blush.
A raindrop cannot exist without a cloud
Just as child cannot live without love.
A human cannot breathe in
Without nature giving him air.
Just as much, I cannot live
Without my true love in my hands.
And my feet cannot walk
Unless it is towards her.
As the doe waits for spring,
As the tiger waits for prey,
As an idea waits for action,
I will wait for you, dear Lucy,
And you will forever be with me.
She touched his signature, scrawled on the bottom of the page. It had a certain elegance to it, while still sloppy. Just like him. She looked on the desk, searching for a writing utensil. Finally, grasping her hands on a black ballpoint pen, she spun it in her fingers, in the same way her father would.
She turned to a blank page. Lucina always would tell Ike that she didn't like writing. It was dull. Too much effort. However, this time, it was for him.
Love is just a word.
It doesn't explain the dark days, heartache or even the casted tears.
It doesn't explain the kissed cheeks, collaborative cooking, or the midnight chats.
She looked down at the paper. She wanted to tear it up. It seems nothing is good enough. But, something made her stop. It was like Ike gently nudged her, giving her a reassuring squeeze. A soft, "Keep going," to tell her to continue. Lucina took a deep breath.
Love is just a word.
Four letters doesn't express the absolute need for a hand to hold, nor does it express the highs of when you're with him.
Love is just a word.
It cannot be labeled, for it is too vast, and too powerful for man to capture. It controls us, and drives us to insanity.
Love is just a word.
It doesn't ease the thoughts one has after they have nothing, or the steps leading to it.
Love is just a word.
It does not quench the thirst to not thrust myself into his arms, though I will not get response. It does not satiate the desires to kiss his cold cheek. It does not coerce the grieving to continue on. It does not restrain the urges to join him where he goes, up into the sky.
Love...
Ink was starting to run, trickling down the paper, along with Lucina's spirits.
"Ike..." she murmured softly. He stomach clenched, her hands shook, her breath quickened. "For... Ike..." She straightened her pen, sliding it down the paper, to the next and final line.
Love is just a word.