I can't think properly after last night. I'm a bit of a wreck. Not entirely sure what this is but still. I have written HR before but I've never been brave enough to post it. Not much point anymore, it's all happy fluff. Still, please be kind and gentle. Not because I'm worried about my writing (that sounds obnoxious, I don't think it's wonderful but I write for myself so I don't have huge worries what people think) but because I am still feeling fragile after last night.
::
Erin never really liked Sara, she found her obnoxious, self-obsessed and far too quick to pass judgement on people and things she knew nothing about. Sara was a couple of years Erin's senior and consequently always put herself in charge, something that greatly irritated Erin. Erin had always put up with her however because their mothers' were best of friends.
Until one day and that day Erin snapped.
Sara was round at Erin's house. Erin was feeling emotionally drained, verging on depressed, not that she'd ever admit it to anyone. Her mum had mentioned in passing to Sara's mum that Erin wasn't acting herself, Sara's mum had told Sara and so, here Sara was. She'd taken it upon herself to cheer Erin up despite the fact Erin was making it blatantly obvious she wanted Sara to leave.
"We should go see that play I was telling you about Erin darling." Cooed Sara "It should cheer you up no end, 'the greatest love story of all time' one of the critics described it as and I have to say I totally agree with him."
"I don't."
"What was that dear? You haven't even seen the thing yet!"
"It can't be the greatest love story of all time."
"I suppose you know the greatest love story ever then do you?" Sara had adopted the sneering, condescending tone that she frequently used whenever Erin was around.
"I do as a matter of fact." Erin replied, her voice ice cold. She stood up and went into the kitchen, on the pretence of making a cup of tea.
"I'll have black, two sugars." Sara ordered. "Let me hear this story then, I doubt somehow that it is the greatest love story ever, I mean you're hardly experienced in that field, are you?" Sara snorted. Erin tensed at the barely veiled reference to Rosie's father.
"You wouldn't understand it Sara, it's far too complex for your vulgar little brain."
"There's no need to be like that Erin darling, so what's it called?"
"It's real Sara, not some play."
"Real means existing outside of your head Erin." Sara smirked, yet another reference to Erin's past (she'd made up a boyfriend to get Sara off her back. Sara had found out.)
Erin didn't reply, just viciously stirred Sara's coffee (with milk, no sugar.)
"So, do tell, was it wildly passionate and heartbreakingly brief?"
"No."
"Well? Did they sleep together once, realised they were utterly in love but had to return to their respective wife and husband?"
"No."
"Give me some details girl!"
"They knew each other for 9 years. They kissed twice. I've never known two people who loved each other more."
"That's not a love story, that's just pathetic!" Sara laughed cruelly.
That was when Erin snapped.
"GET OUT!" She screamed. Sara flinched.
"Woah calm down Erin!"
"No. Get out of my house. I'm sick of you and your bitchy comments. That's why I didn't want to tell you, it's far more beautiful and complex and heartbreaking than you could ever understand. So get out. You're a bitch and I don't want you in my life. Understood?"
"Fine. I never liked you anyway." Sara said, sounding suspiciously like a five year old. Rosie was more mature.
It was only after Sara had slammed the front the door that Erin collapsed. She sobbed, curled into a foetal position. She was sobbing for two people who were completely, utterly, devastatingly in love, for two people who deserved happiness more than anyone else on the planet but were destined never to have it. She was sobbing because the universe was so cruel, so unbearable unfair and because he had to live, live on without her and that was worse than hell. And she was sobbing because no one had ever loved her like that and she didn't know if she ever wanted them too.
::
"Don't ever let anyone tell they know you the greatest love story of all time Rosie."
"Why not mummy?"
"Because they'd be lying."
"Why?"
"Because the greatest love story ever is only known by five people."
"Only five?"
"Yes."
"Who? Me, Di, Callum, the Home Secretary and a man named Malcolm."
"Why do only five people know it?"
"Because the two people it's about,"
"Yes?"
"They were made of secrets."
::
A lot of people will try to tell you they know the greatest love story of all time and although they may not be lying, because lying is deliberate, they will not be telling the truth. The greatest love story is not by Jane Austen or Charlotte Brontë or William Shakespeare and it isn't about two people who initially dislike each other hugely, but then fall in love or a woman who gets married to a man who already has a wife or even about two star crossed lovers.
No, the greatest love story of all time was started by Peter Firth and Nicola Walker and written by the writers of Spooks.
The greatest love story of all time was about two people who were made of secrets.
It was about a love that was heartbreakingly tragic and unbearably beautiful.
It lasted nine years and consisted of two kisses and three words that were never said.