Outside, the rain was relentless with its sudden attack. It poured onto the unfortunate people below her window as they rushed for cover from the storm. Normally she would have laughed at the sight of all these poor souls scuttling to keep themselves dry, while she herself was inside, nice and dry.
Normally.
It'd been almost two years since he'd left for Santa Fe. His precious Santa Fe, she scoffed. Never mind all the people he left behind to run after it. Never mind all the friends and family that'd risked their necks for him to help him get away.
Oh, he'd written once or twice, saying that everything was fine. That the sun DID look bigger in Santa Fe. But that was all in the first week of his absence. Soon after, they'd heard no word from him. Some people thought he'd died. But she knew better.
He'd found a better life, with better friends with dreams like his. A better girl.
Not that Timber was his girl at any point. She'd hoped for that fact once or twice…but in the end, he'd told her she was simply like a sister to him.
"Well this sister is getting tired of waiting around for you." Timber mumbled to herself as she moved away from the window. "And maybe I'll just send you a letter telling you so. Yeah…" she muttered to herself bitterly, snatching up a piece of paper and a pen, "I hope this letter explodes in your face when you get it." Furiously she began to scribble obscenities to him, explaining just what she thought of him.
When she sat back to review her work, she shook her head at herself and scribbled it all out. She glanced up at the room around her, the usual commotion suddenly seeming to slow down.
She turned over the paper and began to write. "Dear Jack…
You'd never recognize
the room.
The pictures all have different frames now. (Not to
mention there are a lot more of them.)
And all the chairs are
rearranged now. (You'd get lost.)
Somehow, I've thrown out every
souvenir.
(You'll never come back, so why should I keep them?)
Yes, there've been
changes made
since you stayed here.
You'd never recognize
the street. (It's a lot busier.)
The neighbor's kids play
different games now. (I don't think I'll ever understand
them.)
The colors in the trees have changed now.
(I've always hated
fall… now I hate it even more)
Strange how I've hardly thought
of you this year. (Last year I couldn't stop thinking about
you.)
Yes, there've been changes made since you stayed here.
The
same address, the more or less. (Still the same Newsboys Lodging
House.)
More happens, less matters, I guess."
Timber paused for a second, gnawing on her lip. She tapped the pen against her lips for a moment before continuing.
"You'd never
recognize my life. (I've changed a lot…I've mellowed down.)
The
party-givers know my name now. (Then again I'm still the same.)
And
when I cry it's not the same now. (I don't have you to comfort
me.)
Somehow, I never waste a single tear. (I'm done crying for
you…)
Yes, there've been changes made
since you stayed here."
Timber's eyes started to cloud up with tears. Frustrated, she wiped at them, trying to rid herself of her foolish feeling of loneliness.
"You'd never recognize the room. (It's filled up your empty
space.)
You'd never recognize . . ."
She looked down at the letter in her hands. Everything she'd wanted to say to him for two years laid on that page; short of begging him to come back.
Timber got up and walked over the window and folded up the paper, sending it outside into the rain.
"Goodbye, Jack Kelly. I'm finished crying over you." Timber sighed slowly, not noticing the figure walking to the lodging house. She turned her back from the window as the paper fell to the damp ground.
Two feet stooped to pick the paper back up and the stranger glanced over it. He stood his full height and looked back up at the window. Adjusting the bag over his shoulder, he scratched at the stubble on his chin and smirked with renewed confidence.
"But I'm not finished with you." He said, his hazel eyes twinkling with determination as he entered his old home.