This is a Sound I Have Been Waiting to Hear...

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Knock knock on the door. This is a sound I have been waiting to hear for what seems to be hours now. I wait for her. My best friend in the whole world and the person that I wish I could spend my entire life with but she is also the same girl that I am most afraid of. I wish I could tell her the way I feel but I have such a worrying, pessimistic voice in my head saying that’s not what she wants and that I have no chance. I see the way she looks at me, the way she puts her hand close to mine while we walk hoping that I might grab it. Why can’t I just hold her hand? What is it in me that makes it so hard to make a subtle movement that seems so right? Anytime I think to myself that I will take the risk I am pushed out by shouting voices in my head “Don’t do it stupid she doesn’t care about you like that!” But she has too. The optimistic, outgoing part of me never seems to win. I am afraid of losing her. Even though I have known her for years now, every time I see her my stomach drops and my tongue seems to tie it self into a knot making it so no matter what I want to say no words will come out. All those uncomfortable feelings are all taken away once I see her eyes. I could look at her eyes forever. Her dark eyes see right through to me, to who I really am away from all the faces that I have to put on to try to make everyone happy. She sees me for who I am. Nothing could make me happier knowing that. She doesn’t love me for my characteristics but its my flaws she loves. Loves? Can she love me? She must, there must be something there inside me that she can love. Tonight is the night I will tell her how I feel. If I lose her it will break my heart but at least I told her. I’d rather tell her and have her leave then not tell her and have her find another man while she is still in my life. Knock knock the second knocks come. I had forgotten about the first knocks while I was contemplating. I feel lighter knowing that tonight I will tell her. I almost run to the door in a panic of excitement. As I open the door I see it is not the girl I had waited anxiously for. I find a police officer with his head down and his hat in his hand. He looks up at me with a somber tone, “are you Alexander?’ I answer the man slowly “yes”. His eyes well up and then he tells me. She was in a horrible car accident and he had witnessed the scene. She lost to much blood to live long enough for the ambulance to arrive. He held her on the side walk, “tell Alexander I love him”. My heart drops. I cannot cry because my face is numb. I want to shout in anger but I cannot because my lungs feel as if they are gone. I was too late. My love is gone. Everything I had ever wanted seemed to be taken from me. I was too late. Millions of thoughts go through my mind. But all I can seem to manage to say is "I love you too".





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