Harsh February Wind

April 5, 2011
She looks up to him. Her beautiful blue eyes stream tears down her soft cheeks. Her eyes gaze at him, waiting for him to speak. He says nothing. He reaches toward her cheek, wiping the tears away. They sting his hand. The feelings lie deep in her soul. She exposes the true feelings she has for him. She begs him to stay. He speaks nothing. He stares back down at her. Her blue eyes, like ice on my soul, refresh his true identity. He can’t help it. His eyes begin to water. Holding this person close to him, the most amazing thing he has ever felt. He opens his mouth, nothing but air escapes. He holds this girl tighter than he has ever held someone before.

He thinks about this memory. Is this love? Will it blossom into something more? These questions haunt him as he has but few ways to remember her. Her face and eyes pass through his mind, minute after minute, day after day. He wonders if she thinks about him the way he thinks about her. The memories fade after days of not seeing her. The memories pass by, until the moment jumps back into his mind.

Her eyes are pouring tears as he tells her he has to leave. He wipes the tears but cannot remove them all. The pain is killing him.

He thinks about the pain. Was all this pain for both of us worth it? He thinks it was. The first person to say those sacred words to him.

She looks up to him. Her soft blue eyes glistening in the sun. The sight is the most beautiful thing he has ever seen. Her soft lips come closer to his. He can’t. He turns away. She pulls him back and asks why. No answer. They continue this for what seems like a lifetime. Each time closer and closer.

Why must it be so hard but worth it? Why can’t he have her to himself? Why does the person he loves and cares for more than anything have to be so difficult to get?

The urge to leave slowly disappears. Tears still pour from her eyes, as he realizes his true feelings. He cannot leave the girl he loves alone. Her pain is his. A struggle endured. He stares down at the girl who bared all. Gave up so many things to get him back.

How do I repay her? The only thing he has is unconditional love. A sacred love. A saving love.

He continues to stare into her soft eyes as the tears start to cease. He wraps his arms around her, protecting her from the cold February wind. He removes his jacket and places it on her shoulders. Her icy blue eyes look up to him. Her lips come toward his. The urge is unbearable. His lips go toward hers. They meet. Her soft lips touch his. His heart races and he gets butterflies. She backs away from his lips. A smile comes to him while she has one.

Was that the beginning of something special? He sits there pencil in hand, pouring it out, baring it all. Does he let her see it? Does she realize the pain she is going through, day and night, struggling, waiting to tell her this? He is stuck in his own prison, thinking about how he feels, without being able to tell her.

His heart slows down. The thought of her touch makes him crazy. They walk back to the car. On the way home, he asks himself, “Will it blossom in this harsh February wind?”

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ImagineBelieveHope said...
Apr. 13, 2011 at 7:09 am
i like this! very straight forward, yet romantic :)
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