One Last Time
One Last Time
"Mmmmmm, Dylan that was amazing," a beautiful brunette, Brenda Walsh, commented after waking up from a long night with her on-again-off-again boyfriend, Dylan Mackay. He sighed and turned to face the other direction.
"Since when has it not been," he muttered coldly. Brenda gently kissed his shoulder with sympathy.
"Dylan," she pressed softly, "what's wrong? You've been acting all weird lately. I just don't get it." She rubbed his shoulders soothingly, hoping for a warm reply.
"What's new," he retorted again not looking up from his gaze. Brenda sat up abruptly and let the covers fall, revealing a naked body.
"Dylan, what the hell is wrong with you? I haven't done anything to deserve this so why are you doing it?" Finally, Dylan sat up and looked into her grey-blue eyes. Her long dark hair was tossed over her shoulder and she had that look on her face that just turned him on like a light bulb. She was definitely beautiful; there was no doubt about it. The way her ever so fair skin contrasted with those massive locks of raven hair, but it wasn't enough. It wasn't enough and he didn't know why as he usually didn't when it came to that famous high school sweetheart, Brenda Walsh.
"Bren, I really don't wanna do this now," he began but she was certainly not interested in taking 'no' for an answer.
"No Dylan," she said firmly, "we're doing this right now because I never know when you're going to be back to do it 'some other time' like you always say!"
"Bren, calm down," Dylan said in an effort to bring down the volume a little. A stray tear trickled down her cheek and she looked at him intensely.
"Is there something I'm doing wrong? Am I not interesting enough for you? Should I dye my hair blonde again?" Dylan chuckled at the last one having remembered the first time they had ever become interested in one another. Brenda had heard that Dylan liked blonde girls so she dyed her hair a color that turned out anything but blonde. It was something the two usually laughed over but this time, she wasn't laughing.
"Brenda, it's nothing." She shook her head and bit her lip as she always did when she was upset.
"No Dylan, it is something but you can't tell me, right?" she paused for a moment then continued. The intensity of her words stung. "Dylan, I can't do this anymore. I'm wasting my life for you and you're doing nothing for me besides some really great sex every few months. I'm not getting any younger here and, believe it or not, I want to settle down. I want kids and a husband that's going to be there. A husband who's going to tell me everything, who's not going to disappear for months at a time, and not tell me where he's going or when he's going to be back."
"Bren," Dylan tried again. Her words were sounding far too final for his liking and he wasn't sure if he was going to like where this was heading.
"Dylan," she said, in her eyes, a look of sincere love for him. "I love you and I always will. You've left a mark on me that can never be forgotten and you'll always have a special place in my heart but, I can't do this anymore. I know you're a great guy but I don't think you're Mr. Right and it hurts so much to finally say it." Brenda's voice was growing weak with every word that fell from her velvet lips.
"Brenda, please don't do this," Dylan cried. He loved her so much and he knew he had problems but this wasn't how he wanted it. Tears fell from his eyes just as they had the very first time the two had ever broken up.
"Dylan, I'm sorry, but….I think….you need to go and I don't think that you should…that you should…come back." Dylan reached up and kissed her with such passion that you couldn't even dream of. She indulged in it and so did he, sweet sorrow and all. There was such pain written on their faces when they broke apart and that's when they knew it was over, for good this time.
He lifted himself off the bed with any strength he had left to use, and picked up his clothes from the floor. She watched as he slipped them on as she had done before only this time, she would know why he was leaving and she would know when he would be back: never. He hadn't brought much so he didn't have much to collect. He grabbed the small black tote and headed for the door.
Brenda slipped on her favorite silk blue robe that Dylan had given her, and followed him for the last time. He twisted the knob and opened the door, turning to face her once he was in the hall of her apartment building. Tears rolled down both their faces and they leaned in for a kiss one last time. It was short, but ever so sweet.
"Don't come back," she whispered. He nodded and he watched as the woman who he could never seem to get over, closed the door, one, last, time.