Disclaimer: Still not Bruno Heller, which, most of the time I'm kind of glad about…
Sometimes you wish that you could stop thinking. Just for a minute, a day, a while, forever. You lie down, smell spilt tea and broken promises. Some one is shaking you. You roll over ignore her. Wish, only for a minute that she would go away and leave you, only for a minute, a while, forever. Sometimes when you let your guard down all the things she has ever said to you fill your head until you feel like you will explode. I miss you, goodbye, be careful, good morning, pass the juice, yes, no maybe, 42, this is all your fault, Patrick, Patrick, Patrick, "Jane!" This time the person shaking the couch is solid, and real, and angry. You sit up all your fault, all your fault, all your fault "This is all your fault! You break through the curtain of dreams and back to reality. Rub your eyes, stand up, "…filing a lawsuit!" you reply with something witty which you can't remember.
"… need your help with a murder."
'Great, who do you want dead?"
You aren't thinking about what she is telling you though, you are far away, staring into a pair of eyes that are warm, and chocolate brown. The picture in your mind is so vivid that you find yourself trying to memorize her. Because you are already starting to forget. You can't quite remember the way she laughed, or the brand of shampoo that she used. But the one thing that you clearly remember, something that has stayed with you, creeping into your mind every time you close your eyes, is the look in her eyes when you found her, those eyes have reached across time and space to shake you awake late at night every time you finally manage to fall asleep. But you will not forget, you do not deserve to forget. Because this is your fault. It will always be your fault.
"…are you coming?"
HELP ME HELP ME HELP ME And when she grabs you elbow and steers you towards the door the staccato pounding in you head stops. And you wish that she would hold on.
For a minute, a while, forever.
I love you.
Please review!