A Love Story

He looked pretty exasperated as he sat down beside her. He shook his head as tears threatened to fall from his eyes. He casually ran his hand across his forehead; down to his eyes before letting out a deep sigh. With eyes closed, he began to speak.

He could never understand her. He muttered about how he didn’t like the way she, unconsciously, changed the channel during the last two minutes of a very thrilling NBA game. He can’t blame her for being oblivious to the fact that he was sitting on edge, biting his nails off in anticipation. She just wanted to watch the Brad Pitt flick that was on HBO.

He couldn’t get over how inept she was when it came to video games and techie stuff. She would just push any button during a Tekken game while shouting “This is a dumb game. Do i really have to play?” But she kissed him senseless and screamed like a cheerleader high on energy bars when he let her win one round.

He sighed and looked at the heavens then let out a low laugh.

He didn’t like it when she dragged him around for 2 hours around the mall –spending 99% of that time deciding on a single pair of shoe. He didn’t like hearing about the way he should dress or how he styled his hair. Really, he couldn’t care less if he wore the same shirt the next day. But then, she would have a fit and refuse to cuddle. So he hauls himself to the bathroom and comes out squeaky clean.

He was sometimes appalled at how reminiscent she was of his mother –taking care of him; heckling him; making sure he was always safe and okay. Gracious! He could never get over the nagging that happened once too many often. But, she had a good heart underneath the layer of designer clothes and make-up he was used to see on her.

He hated the way she talked to him sometimes, as if he was hearing impaired. There wasn’t any need to shout. He cleaned his ears regularly. He resented the fact that she calls him a liar and that he’s not a good listener. He just didn’t want to argue with her over something silly and impossible.

He could not get why sometimes she just couldn’t trust him. He really fumed when she accused him of silly things like looking at another girl. He could barely take his eyes off her.

He hated her mood swings but then he knew them like the back of his hand so he could survive each surge of the tide. He was always afraid of how much she loved him but he couldn’t blame her, he was terrified of how he strongly loved her as well.

He stopped talking for a moment looking at his hands. He seemed at a loss for words. He took a deep breath and softly whispered. ” But you know what I hated the most…I loathed it when you left me…”

He fixes the flowers he had laid on the ground for her. He wipes the tears that were streaming down his face and takes a deep breath.

He would never understand why God had taken her away from him. Why her? Why that drunk driver and one cold, rainy night? He would gladly change places with her and often, when he is in his blackest of moods, he would wish he had been in that car with her! But  he wasn’t and he couldn’t. Now, all that’s left are pieces of her memories. The pictures, thoughts and feelings that cling to his heart like shards of glass.

He would never fully realize the extent of her love; her passion and her heart. He would never again see the special sparkle in her smile and her eyes when she looked at him. He would never hear the melody of her ” i love you…”

But, he would be forever grateful; forever blessed.

He will never forget her…because he knew she loved him… and oh, how he had loved her.

THE END