Park Bench (Version 2)

Cold and wet, gloomy clouds hung over normally bright sky. I sloshed the water around in the sink, washing the last of dinner off the plates while my annoying little brother sat in the living room tuning his violin to a somber tone.

I growled under my breath, finishing my job and quickly grabbed my raincoat, rushing out of the house and away from the oppressive atmosphere, slamming the door shut behind me. I shoved my hands into my pockets, trying my best to ignore the recently crappy weather. I didn't really know where I was going until I found m self almost running into the gates of the deserted local park. My muscles tensed up as I made my way along the dully glinting pats.

The duck pond was oddly empty, but the soft strains of a Spanish guitar reached my ears over the annoying pitter-patter of rain. Something warm swelled in my chest as I stumbled towards the sound.

But there was no music.

There was no bright smile.

Nor were there shinning green eyes.

There was no stupid, laughing Spaniard with his old, beat up guitar.

There was only the old, fading park bench in a dim, dull, empty park. I allowed my hand to reach out, fingers trailing along the chipping paint that had once been green. Light from the streetlamp just a few yards away caught the small metal band on my finger, making it glint with a mocking little light. The cold bite of the metal was enough to force me to shrink back, clutching the ice cold hand do my chest. I glared at the ugly bronze plate that had been screwed into the back of the bench, eyes starting to sting.

"In loving memory of Antonio Fernández-Carriedo, hit and killed by a drunk driver at age twenty –two. His warmth and music will be forever missed."

Fifteen years, six months, eleven days, and nine hours –that's how long I had you.

And never once did I tell you…

'Idiot..I love you too.'

I'm sorry it took fifteen years, six months, and twelve days for me to figure that out.