Dedicated to Tiff, because she helped me think through my block on this.
Click.
Her hair was falling over her shoulder, blowing in the wind. She was tucking a strand behind her ear, her nose was crinkled up in a laugh, and she was looking at him like he put the stars in the goddamn sky, the way she had always looked at him but he was too blind to realize meant everything.
All that, and she was on his balcony.
Well, not his. But the balcony from the story that had captured his heart years ago, and he had subsequently claimed as his.
He'd be damned if any Juliet in the history of time was as gorgeous as the girl staring down at him. So he had to capture it on film. This image of this girl who had changed everything for him years ago, and was helping him change everything now.
Things hadn't been great. That might have been the understatement of the past two years. He had lost himself. That much was obvious. He wasn't sure who he had been, but he did know that he found the parts of himself that he still liked in her. She was helping him realize who he wanted to be and helping him figure out how to get there again. A bright angel in a sea of uncertainty and confusion.
She had surprised him with this trip as a way to enjoy themselves away from the hustle and bustle of the city. He had nearly tackled her in a hug when she handed him the tickets, and she had video of him blabbering on about the history of Verona and going on the Romeo & Juliet tour.
And that's exactly what they had done. It had been a whirlwind of wine and pasta and music, and they were finally at the birthplace of love. And this girl was looking down on him like the very definition of the word.
He was stupid to have let her go before. He had written songs about his mistakes, leaving messages in lyrics and performances he knew she would see.
When he realized he had to change, he had written a letter. It wasn't to anyone in particular, but now that he was here and found out about the Letters to Juliet, he supposed he could address it to the patron saint of star-crossed lovers herself. The letter contained all his mistakes, all his regrets. But it also included his goals. Writing them down made them seem daunting and attainable all at once. He had listed some practical ones, like getting regular adult haircuts and learning to cook something besides ramen and microwaving his sister's leftovers. But he had also included ones like rebuilding his image, smiling more, and Making a Difference. He wanted to be a better person so that by the time he got to the last few goals, he would be someone who deserved them.
His sister was teaching him how to cook some basic meals, he had given up on ever looking as cool as Kurt Cobain, and he was trying to be better about being on Twitter. He made the effort to smile when he saw people waving at him, and he was starting to work with the local Boys and Girls club to do some music lessons and mentoring. He was trying to be a person he was proud of being. Someone she was proud of being with.
His last few goals were big ones. Apologize. Make up. And the big doozy- marry that girl someday before she got away again. He had accomplished the first two. But the last one was going to take some more concentrated effort.
She was too good for him and had accepted his apology with a big hug and the world's most forgiving attitude. He didn't deserve that, but she gave it anyway. She was the giving type, and he loved that about her.
He loved everything about her, and it was time he told her that.
He could have written her another song, but that didn't seem right. She needed more than that. She was his more.
She was there on the balcony, still, and she was calling out to him about how incredible Verona was. Verona was incredible, but Verona was for lovers, not friends.
He smiled and snapped another photo of her.
There had to be a place to buy frames around this city. He was on his phone Googling the answer in an instant, once the idea hit. He needed a double frame and parchment, and he needed it as soon as he could get it.
Thank god for delivery services and the excuse that travel and exploration made one tired.
He worked on his project all afternoon, trying to figure out the right words. Songs were easy, but letters were much harder. Letters that said everything you've been keeping inside for years were the hardest.
It was wrapped by the time he picked her up for dinner, and he taunted her with the fact that she had to wait to open it. Once the wine was poured, he handed over the frame with her picture on the balcony next to a handwritten letter.
Dear Juliet,
There's a girl, and she's everything to me. She just doesn't know it.
She's beautiful, intelligent, kind, and she always has been. She's always been the one to change everything for me, even when I didn't know I needed it.
I know she got away once, but I need your help to make sure she doesn't get away again. I'm in love with her, and I have to tell her. She's the girl on your balcony, Juliet. That's the girl that makes me a better person. I find everything I like about myself in her. I couldn't make it without her. She is the kind of person songs are written about. She is the forever I need.
I just hope that she needs me, too.
Juliet needed more than a monument. She needed sainthood, and maybe few songs from him about her helping hand.
Since she was crying and telling him she loved him, too, he figured he might have finally gotten things right. The kissing was another clue.
His final goal might not have been accomplished yet, but he was getting there. Being in love was a good start. He still wasn't sure if he deserved her, yet, but she was willing to give him a chance to try.
He would spend the rest of his life trying if it meant he could try with her by his side. Forever.
As cheesy as it sounded, he was better when they were together.
She was going to get a new song dedicated to her. Or maybe just a really old one. Either way, he was going to let everyone know he finally got it right.