The Complications Of Life...
I just couldn't understand. Only a few months ago were we walking through that very park, along the cobbled path, near the pond and all of its life, in a unnatural harmony, one in which humans could never achieve. Holding my hand, you guided me towards a patch of perfectly green grass, where we sat and stared up at the forgiving blue sky. Those precious days where you ran your hand through my hair, twiddling it between your fingers will remain in my tear-filled eyes for as long as I shall live. When you held me close to your chest, I felt safe, nothing could hurt me. You protected me.
I remember back to when my eyes first lay upon your sleek face and incredible smile. You made me weak at the knees. I remember having to sit down with my group of friends. You were alone. They began to talk, but my eyes never left you. Your sharp blue eyes mesmerised me, your perfectly styled hair complemented your face shape and your pale skin shone slightly in the bright lights of the café. My breath seemed to leave my body completely, my eyes would not leave you, no matter how hard I tried to listen to the ongoing conversation, I could not pry them away.
From that day onwards, I looked out for you, every opportunity I got to return to that café, I did. You were never there. I missed you. I never even knew your name. It pained my heart for me to think of you. The possibility you were with another woman made my heart rebel with a sickening ache. I began to live with the fact that my sudden obsession with you would never be fulfilled in any way, so I went back to my normal life. But you still held my mind captive, your eyes, your skin, your hair... your smile.
It wasn't until 3 months later, when I had moved into a smaller town that I saw you again. My trip to A&E was one I will never forget. Being shoved into a glass coffee table was not very fun, but it was all worthwhile when I saw your gleaming smile again from across the room. I remember sitting in the waiting room, my left arm wrapped in a white sheet, heavily spotted with blood, and my top speckled also. A friend of mine was sat next to me, winging on about how sorry she was for knocking me into it in the first place, I wasn't listening. I was wishing. Wishing you would treat me. But no.
I was taken into another room, where I was sat onto a bed and asked what was wrong. By this time, a gloomy expression had been etched across my face. I said nothing. The nurse unwrapped the makeshift bandage, gasped in horror, threw it back over the ever painful wound and dashed out of the room, muttering a small "Sorry" before disappearing completely. I was left in there, alone. Ten minutes later, a head popped around the door, along with a "Hello." I was preoccupied with staring at the ever-growing patch of blood to take it in. A pale face looked at mine, from a distance at first, then closer, until he dipped his head to meet my eyes and catch my attention. I looked bleakly up, where a familiar pair of blue eyes met mine. My heart immediately stopped, my breath held.
I pulled my head up, where I got the full view of his lean body. From the tips of his blondish-brown hair to the end of his shined shoes. His arms were toned along with his chest and his eyes gleamed even more so in the bright hospital lights. A smile pulled at the sides of his mouth; "How are you?" I immediately drew myself out of my daze and replied;
"Feel a little dizzy." He lifted my chin up with his forefinger and shone a bright light into my eyes. I felt uncomfortable with the light and he noticed. Switching off the small light he jotted a few things down onto a piece of paper.
"So, how did this happen?" He asked, slowly prying the sheet away from the bleeding wound. He squinted slightly when saw the pieces of glass wedged in my arm.
"Bit of a story that." I said nervously, letting a small smile escape my lips. I was close to him...
A few moments later he had cleaned off most of the dried blood and was keeping the fresh blood at bay. He removed his long, white coat and sat next to me on the bed, with a small pot and a pair of tweezers.
"This might feel a little uncomfortable but bear with me." He said, placing his warm hand onto my arm and placing my hand onto his lap. Slowly, he began to pull out the pieces of glass... I remember drifting into a sort of daydream, forgetting where I was and what was happening. When I did regain consciousness, if that's what it was, he was bandaging my arm up, neatly. He looked down at me and smiled;
"Awfully quiet." He said, placing his hand on my shoulder before walking across the room to pick up the same piece of paper he was jotting on before.
"Its all a bit overwhelming." I said, standing up, and walking over to him.
"That's understandable." He spoke, turning around to face me, his eyes locked onto mine and mine onto his, and it stayed like this for a few moments, until my friend walked through the door. I looked over and bowed my head, blushing uncontrollably.
Looking back, I remember that situation feeling very awkward, but now, it almost seems funny. He walked me out to the front entrance and wished me luck in recovery, before opening the passenger side door. He stepped back as my friend pulled away, all I could see was him smiling in the mirror and I presume all he could see was my slightly blushing face.
It was a couple of days later when I received a letter. I hadn't felt this excited since my first date as a teen. I remember fretting about what I would wear to the date with the doctor, his letter was so precise and to the point, simply asking me if I would like to go for dinner, Saturday night, in the Red-De-Fleur restaurant. In the end, I wore a small black dress and heels, since he was a lot taller than me. My nerves overran my body as I walked through the entrance, I felt so out of place. I was greeted by a very tall, very French man in a suit;
"You must be Miss Lei. This way please." I was shocked by his confidence and followed him towards the back of the restaurant, where the Doctor greeted me.
I remember the meal being very romantic, even if it wasn't meant to be. After all, it was supposedly the most romantic restaurant in the town. It went on like that for weeks, meeting in the park, having dinner, staying at his place, staying at my place,watching movies and getting to know each other. Until one day, I didn't receive a reply from a text message. Paranoia set in, but I quieted myself down and thought that maybe he was just ill.
It wasn't until 2 months later that I received another letter. Explaining everything;
Lei,
I apologise for not replying to your messages or calling you to let you know, but I have been ill these past few weeks and it has taken me a while to recover. I am greatly sorry, and I feel awful for leaving you without any knowledge.
All my love,
Carlisle.
So that was his name, finally. Carlisle was the love of my life, made me weak at my knees and simply stole my heart. A Doctor who lived in the depths of a wood, in a house made almost purely of glass. In my paranoia I had forgotten to go and get my stitches taken out, in which case they had become sceptic. So a trip to the hospital was necessary. Upon arriving I was once again guided into another room to wait for whomever felt like treating me. The door opened and in walked... Carlisle.
"Long time no see." I said, looking down at my feet. He sighed and sat next to me, putting his arm around my shoulders.
"Lets get you sorted." He spoke. Twenty minutes later, my stitches had been removed and my arm felt heaps better. I stood up, and thanked him, but as I looked up into his eyes, something struck me, something was... different. His eyes were no longer the bright blue they once were, but now the colour of honey, glazed over. His skin was paler than usual and he seemed distracted. Noticing my reaction, he closed his eyes. I knew something was wrong. I placed my hand onto his shoulder. His hand met mine there, but I was shocked, feeling how cold it was.
I have received nothing but letters since. We hardly talk and never see each other. He tells me in his letters that one day he will explain what has happened, but for now, I must be patient and wait for the correct time. Is it ironic that the park we were in not a few weeks ago for the last time, was burnt in a tremendous fire, now reduced to nothing but embers and ash? The grass is a solemn grey and no birds inhabit the area any more.
You changed, Carlisle. Your skin cold and your eyes honey-like. Your wish for me to stay away for now, but to remain in contact was strange by itself. I no longer know where I stand with you, and it has been like that right up to this day. Still the time is not right for you. I am longing to feel the feelings in which I feel when I am around you, again, for you and I are not as different as you may think.
I love you, Carlisle.
