Hello everyone, this is my first fanfiction. I apologize in advance for the mistakes involving grammar and/or orthography. My mother language is Spanish but the story haunting my mind comes in a defective English and I cannot help but to write it in a defective English as well. Besides, this could be a way of self-improvement.
I plan a long story so this is only introductory and is about some thoughts from our dearest Anne.
Comments and suggestions will be appreciated.
-We have not seen each other in eight years. All of this time has certainly changed our life in very different ways. They have been flattering for him and wearing for me. But it is not an injustice of time but consequences of our behavior.
For a brilliant man with his will strength, it was certain time held mostly victories. He had a vast collection of interests and many sources of happiness. You would not like to feel yourself as the crawling snake, the vile presence that ruins it all, the cause of the first tears and courses you know coming from him. I wish he had been more indifferent then, I wish I had not broken two hearts but only mine.
I was a coward, as he called me.
It has never abandoned me, his presence, the estrangement of having lived what I lived with him and now to be destined not to meet him anymore. And the love I felt for him, it is now different and I may say, deeper.
It helps to the permanency of love if you break the heart of your lover. In doing so I´ve condemned myself to many sleepless night with a mind so useless except for the thought of him and the regret behind it.
I hope closure will come to me the day I find him engaged or married. I don´t know how will I bear the moment if the simplest fact of finding a recent picture of him makes my heart pound with violence. But I´ll bear it and, maybe just then, I will be capable of leaving this behind and keep just the good memories.
As for my life, I continued to be a coward. I left home many years after, not because I became brave but because leaving stopped being an act of bravery. I left because nobody else needed me anymore.
I left home for graduate school. It had been four years since I left college, three underpay jobs, two lovely nephews from Mary and several financial disasters, when I decided it was time to move on.
I studied languages at college, I´m capable of translating from French and German. I deserve some credit for the election of my profession because my love for books and because this occupation does not carry the responsibility of writing your own stuff, the stress of having your work, a bare sample of your talent to be judged by others. There is no much room for failure if you do some hard work and accomplish to finish on due dates. The translator is, in a way, just a witness. It takes some time to be a decent one but, then, I have had no distractions.
There is no much to do with my family situation, my father will continue to exceed his income. My aunt managed to convince him to buy a decent apartment as an investment, it is being rented and I fear it will be the only income they will have in a few years. Then, he and my sister Elizabeth will have to live with the consequences of their immoderations. But there is nothing else to do, any intent of reasoning with them leaves me wondering if we actually speak the same language. We already lost our home, the one where I spent my childhood; it was sold two years ago and the income from that sell, I´m certain, is about to be gone.
Now that I´m far from them, I find myself more frequently enjoying my days. To be in a new city, to be completely anonymous is quite enjoyable for a pathological introvert like me. I sometimes wonder if we had met in the actual conditions, would I have make the same impression on him as I did when I was 19, I wonder how would it turn out to be.
These daydreams of mine must not be misunderstood, I do not wait for him anymore nor do I wish to find him in this city. My daydreams are made of impossible fabric, set in some parallel universe where the miserable thing that happened here, never took place there.
My dreams concerning our encounter in this reality are plain nightmares.
There is fear in my nightmares. I´m certain I have not a chance with him anymore and I only wish not to find him again, I fear a meeting may end my doubt on his lack of forgiveness and confirm his rejection towards me. It would certainly be a damage I don´t know how many more years would take me to overcome.
The title, by the way, comes from a song called "you are mine" by Mutemath. I think it just suits the mood of this story.
